Haptic—Or Don’t Chase the Bus

When he says he wants
to take you
for granted, don’t wait

to take off.
Cinco de Mayo festivals
don’t always fall

on the 5th. When they do,
it’s time to take
our names seriously—or

at least find
an urban maypole
dance to join.

Wicked May Day

Wind blows over
assumptions about a season. Not this year.
Come back next. Those tiny buds break
my heart. Teased
into believing warmth
would change me. Waiting
for the next me to bloom, I can’t
put this one in the back
of the closet yet. The crowded front
muffles a familiar hum—to be released.