Mecca

the night we met the prophet Muhammad
and contemplated Jesus of the black-foot,
Beverly kissed our shoulders reckless
so we swan dove into parking lot cavalcades
the silent dare passing between our mouths
remember how summer woke us
so I held ice cubes on my lips
and tried to kiss you cold-
I'd like to blame Muhammad's drinks
staying to hear about sand dunes and evil eyes
but nothing could waste me more
than you
just you
this morning something has shifted
you've been pulling this out of me with each glance
needle pricks as your tongue clicks
have sewn this
love,
when you look for me, I am not there
when you least expect it, I am everywhere
what am I-
there are parts of this world I will never see
prophets and diners that will pass unknown
but for this moment as morning songs sweep over me
I have lived it all.