Mercury In Van Gogh Skies Poem by Chelsea Locke

Mercury is a speed demon on an ego trip;
young and stupid with only the eyes of heaven to bring him back down.
I was told I had stars in my eyes, but
I don't remember
pulling the constellations into my irises. You were the one to hand me the flowers
and announce that you had picked them yourself,
"Instant gratification isn't fast enough." Maybe
we could slow this down a bit. Let me meet the night and feel its velvet sweetness
across my breasts like warm bath water,
like the gulf at the first touch of summer. I can smell the salt.
I can smell the sulfur. With you
I tasted the slow rot in the bottom of an eroded season's
grave and found it sweeter than the last drops of wine you brought
when you showed up at my door. It was enough
to trade my stars
for sleepless nights under Van Gogh skies. I would have traded anything.