Eclipsed by Emily Depasse

Peering from beneath
makeshift covers she slides
her tattered sandals off

the tailgate. You were too
busy finding right moments to notice
how she looked when shadows made her

invisible. Reaching over the bed
of the truck, you brush red locks aside and lean
in, but she only allows you

the space to map the freckles across
her forehead. You ignite
your zippo and grab

the candle that’s always hidden
under the front seat. Hopping
onto the bed, you wait

for a reaction, only
to receive that unwanted
look. She tells you to remember

this night because of the blood
moon. And to imagine the reflection
of that orange globe against

local waves where you first
kiss. Remember
carving our initials into freshly sea-salted grains

and seeing them wash away
together.  We are not just
falling over one

another’s lips tonight. I lost myself
to you long before the storm came
through your blood eyes.


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