vegas poem number three

August was monsoon season
and my brother and I
morphed into mud monsters
'cause our street was never paved
and instead of throwing rocks
at road runners
we'd throw dirt clods
at each other
and I would try to catch clouds in my hands
in this valley
let the mountains hold us
let the rocks scrape our knees
like cuneiform
let the lightning be our battle cry
see we'd gather the starlight
reflected in midnight puddles
and bury it in the dust
when the sun came
and still
my best perfume will be rain
sunsets painted purple and orange
like blurred fireworks
paused in the pacific sky
and I used to dig holes
in my front yard
the summer sun retiring
and I'd let the minerals
chalk up my hands like a ghost
and the land that birthed me
is made of big bang theory
a gravity of love harsh enough
to make my heart
beat like quail wings
and my brother and I
still shake dust from our hair
still only feel safe
with mountains around
and we still only trust each other
as children our god
didn't have a name
something about the sunset
stole the words away from us
and if I could catch a patch
of raincloud in my hands
I'd carry it to the hearts
parched from being broken so much
and I'd quench the loneliness
and I'd teach them
how to light the right fire inside
so let the valley cradle us
let the sky tuck us in
let the stars dance with the moon
so we can choose
love
so let's choose love
let's remember the moment
when we looked at the sky
and knew
we didn't have to give god
a name
or a gender
let's just let the rain
drip from our hair
there
in clouds made of mercury
hurrying to give the world water
is the answer
the cure for our wounds
and words
we wished we could tell god
but that we need to tell ourselves
with trust
with rain in our hair
and mud between our toes
let's choose love
like our hearts
had never tasted water
and we finally found the source
in ourselves