gasoline rainbow girl--

broke my shins off from licorice
sticks-- red vines strung
up to my knees-- pour me
into a gasoline rainbow--
that's the type of girls we
are-- the type of accidental 
beauty that only comes from 
kneeling in a puddle of
water--i like to remember
how i got to grow up
collecting beneath
truck bellies in the rain--
i learned that my skin
takes bruises & fire.

on the way to taekwondo with
my blue belt coiled & venomous 
in my lap we stopped
at the same gas station every tuesday
& thursday when i was 8
-- crushed rock candy 
& packaged my body in 
a root beer barrel to toss over
the edge of niagara falls--

the ultimate metaphor about human
curiosity is our tendency to
want to throw ourselves from
high places & live-- 

when mom & dad weren't home
you & i would ride the 
couch cushions down the attic stairs--
bruise our knees like echoing puddles
of indigo gasoline--

out of boredom sometimes
i would take out the clear blue lighter
from the top drawer in the kitchen
full of half-opened boxes of 
birthday candles & we would sing
to ourselves before letting years
all loose in the fire-heads
of untimely candles--

what kind of water are we made of
that let's us become such 
dangerous rainbows--?

let's play in the puddles
in the driveway--
the thunder is crying open
the sky in the back yard--

laugh with me like knees
& sun showers--  

we knew we were gasoline
children-- laid down on the 
back seat at a rest stop
on the traditional
five hour pilgrimage
to chingoteague the family
took each july--

you tell me that you
think you like the way gasoline
smells & i agree but we
both know it's weird--

we watch the people wipe
their hands on the thighs
of their shorts as they escape
the matrix of bathrooms, snack
islands, and brochure kiosks of too
many places to travel to--

when i'm alone i think of
us & how we have the habit of
returning to our gasoline rainbows--
sleeping under the bellies of cars--
riding kayaks in faded brochure 
photographs & eating our
own shins on the way to karate--

what do you remember about bruising?
what was it like to drop from the
top of the waterfalls in a 
jars made of root beer glass
candy.