You, Eros.  

Left me by the crisp pool, too much sunblock running in rivulets down my back, stomach,

Slowly down fat fat double cream thighs.

You, too rich for my palette when I like my chili-dog with ketchup

You licked above my upper lip.

I watched the horizon for a sign you’re back.

Waiting on a plastic Adirondack - nipples tight, knees loose, boombox so wet.

Popping stale bubble-gum behind glitter heart sunglasses too big for anything.

Pop and pop deflate.

Wishing you just

Remembered the promise you made to 16 year old me  

Right before you purloined my sticky-too-sweet-strawberry tart.

Somewhere, you’re sitting on a celestial bench dipped in milky ways and teenage awkwardness.

Smiling to that next girl you’ll rotate out on your assembly line of love.