lyrics
Away
In the bedroom of your olive dress, plastic stars glow
from damp plaster and patchouli haunts the sheets.
I watched that galaxy for years before asking
if you planned to become an astronaut.
Your laughter bubbled:
always, yes.
It was the first time I wished your mouth was not
so pink and perfectly oval, a bar of rose soap.
I cannot compete with the moon.
I would feed you cheese until your tongue
knows craters.
Convince you to jump as the swing reaches
its highest pitch
see, gravity has nothing on the playground (for a moment it seems those shoes of yours sputter wings, you are Hermes kin floating, flying, diving, landing crooked on your red tennis shoe)
I would wear your olive dress that slips from the shoulder, ask you to smell the warm curve of my collar:
this scent does not exist in space
but I will not say
stay
I did not say
stay
The airport a flutter of halogen, sharp heels, guard dogs that bark at ankles.
You handed me your coat:
I won't need it in Egypt.
In duty free, I dusted cheap perfume on the collar
this scent does not exist-
The moon winked, coy
as I bused home to your olive dress.
In flight above the Caspian Sea,
clouds parted
beckoning you on, up
away.
credits
released December 1, 2010
Poetry & Vocals by Alessandra Naccarato
Music by Ron Griffin
license
all rights reserved