me and my old man out front again the tobacco is sweet to my nose a clunking moth rallies warmth from the porchlight
my dad scrapes aftershave from his skin i hear his hand against his wiry cheek the moon pours a pool of light at my feet i make believe they wade in the shallow comfort of the third step above the walk
we've been out here a while already the dew crawls slow on the lawn goosebumps do the same on my arms i've been seeing a guy at school no one knew until now
my old man picks himself up from the cracking lawnchair he shoots his dead cigarette off the porch long into space he slips inside and leaves me to myself with the moonpools fading at my feet