The Midnight Swim

dizzying flowers in her dampened hair,
anna livia’s gone swimming before her man returns,
the moon breaking into her minimized sky –

regretful of her purchases.
the names that the customers offered her;
when she let a pack of cigs their way for free:
hand still, clutching the pack, waiting-

a wink and a misused grin
ushers them far from her burning stars;
chased between the backwood waters,
her soul robbed of her . . .

drowning in the swagger of a rare, real man
who’s off to play cop for the swimming ladies
after running away with their swollen fireflies;
pilots his rustling chariot, roars off in dust
to wear the saving grace, crown of the undressed gaze-

touch them and they quiver beneath
barefoot glow encircling at his feet,
touch anna livia underwater and she drowns,
stung by the tangles in her foolhardy hair.

~ M. Lucia