there is peace in moments,
in minutes,
where therapy lies just shy
of border towns grown old,
and tequila sunrises
are all there is to drink,
when comatose eyes grow heady
with morning rush
of brandy and cappuccino mixers
flowering fanfare on hazy horizons
and still,
gazes are drawn to the spill
where sea meets sky,
bleeding blush to cover
blemishes bleached in holes
the size of needles,
pulling thread in random gasps
of astonished laughter
where even through life's little deaths
circles spin on moons
and craters thrive in custom pants
stretched tautly over slippery thighs
of cabana boys,
wearing summers subtle shade
of orange, while overhead another hole
pops in bubbled glee
bursting gas in crunching crepes,
while Suzette smiles
at such brighter colors blazing
but her faster friends with Mercedes Benz,
well,
she insists, they call her Suzy
Honorable mention
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