Lily

Sometimes i feel squeezed, within the smiles he makes, his manner sleepy easy, love lights mark his bones, who is he to shake, me from my loving home, when he was thirty three, New Orleans forsaken, he looked to the sea, the moon his barometer, knows what he's taking, decided just to go, by a lilac magnolia tree, he stretches a long gait, pulls at my feelings, whispers a loving groan, I wish it weren't fake, listening to the stones, the sky opaque.