kilauea

kilauea

what is there not
to get excited about,
i thought...

the bleeding has stopped
and i have eight miles of memories
that will last forever

there’s a sweet little hole in the knee of my
favorite pair of casual friday jeans
and already
i’m scheming
about ways i might get it
nOtiCeD

i've got
toasted marshmallow pictures...
me, and me again, and me again,
taken by strangers who walked
across the lava in pairs,
lovers in twenty languages,
kissing
in the steam of molten rock meeting cold blue ocean,
flashlight circles merging
into intimate ovals

on.off.on.off.on.off...
i flicked that flashlight for almost an hour
sending you signals
hoping they might reach you
as i waited for the sun to go down

thinking of you,
i sat
at the edge of creation
alone with my incredulity,
surrounded
by a crowd of abandoned choices,
alternative outcomes,
and thoughts of you and i here together

i wondered
if it had been right
to leave you behind,
sulphur gases, flying magma,
and lonely dreamer, me,
who just had
to see earth being born...

dried crimson, 10:38pm,
eight miles and five hours later,
orion, scorpio, and you,
molten red
as seen from the hood of that car

how could i tell you
all i had seen,
all i had considered,
all i had missed...