Cicada

Wake up to an open window and summer split ends Last night and the cigarette grit still echoes and bends I still taste you under my tongue I don't want you, but you linger in my lungs It's been months now, we're nearing on November But sometimes to fall asleep, I stop to remember The curve of your cheek The sparsely filled subway car when midnight had passed Giving thanks to the slices of sky as I maze my way back There in the gate kept garden Across from the alleyway stairs Under the light of the corner store You tucked a lock of my hair Am I glowing yet? Am I going to rain? I feel a monsoon in my chest Drip to my knees Believing again Now I'm enveloped in yellow I still dream I have insect wings Reaching for creatures in make-believe lands I speak through the worlds that I sing The bugs below hum to the stars I keep our New York night in a jar Maybe some day I will go back Maybe it's best when I dream from afar Sometimes I wonder if I'm a cicada Only emerging for moments like these Only knowing how to sing in the times in between It's been a long many years underground I shake my shell, I make my sound Awake to the world and I'm here to remember aloud I remember There in the gate kept garden Across from the alleyway stairs Under the light of the corner store You tucked a lock of my hair Am I glowing yet? Am I going to rain? I feel a monsoon in my chest Drip to my knees Believing again Am I floating yet? Are my feet on the floor, or am I suspended in night? Wings on my back I flit like a kite