Tina

Hand me back blue lightning.
Find me two squares left of the sixteenth
on a bench in the park when daylight hugs dark
where we’d throw discs and then go get them.

Can’t open the can, but disposed of a rainbow.
Like Tina on a good night every night.
Complex, it’s the best.

There’s no telling what time’s telling me.
It’s nice, for me. I like it.
Mending early mornings, stitching with the sunrise.
Tina, Tina, look into my eyes.

Sitting, soaking lightning.
Find me two squares left of the sixteenth
on a bench in a park when daylight hugs dark
where we’d throw thoughts and then go get them.

Like no one else can, a shaking sequin rainbow.
Like Tina on a good night every night.
Complex, it’s the best.