"Average Sun" by Tim Moder

I kissed a girl here, our first lips were sour and tight;

our tongues dead weight. (where to breathe?) (How

to hold my head?) She bit me. I laughed and we

continued. Long walks led to longer looks. Soundtracks

echoed around us, as eventually we become fragrant

and loose, lived in. We became dances we didn’t know

we knew. We were sighs. On buses, sandy blankets,

stolen sofas, and the neighbors sprinkled lawns. We

were unaware that sun was going down around us

until, unable to feel the heat we folded into night.

Tim Moder is an Indigenous poet living in northern Wisconsin. He is a member of Lake Superior Writers. His poems have appeared in Penumbra Online, Paddler Press, Tigermoth Review, Sisyphus, and others.