St. Edward’s Park (hungover)
A month of rain revived the waterfall,
current looking frothy enough to drink.
His eyes closed to the sky, to me, he sleeps
on stone. Mosquitoes keep
their distance, make me their only meal.
Sun turns his flesh brown. Mine goes
red as the western sky grows brighter.
Sweat pools in the crooks of my elbows,
along his hairline, the air taking
all we can offer, sparing us nothing.
Dragonflies frantic in their breeding.
Wildflowers blanch in the light.
Whenever I watch him sleep, I am lonely.
I swear I see the waterfall
already receding, recollecting heat.
Allyson Whipple is the author of two chapbooks, most recently Come Into the World Like That (Five Oaks Press, 2016). She is an MFA candidate at the University of Texas at El Paso, and co-editor of the Texas Poetry Calendar. Allyson teaches writing at Austin Community College. You can read more about her work at http://allysonmwhipple.com