under the stars
& the summer was endless.
Oh lover, what a word,
what a world, this gray waiting.
I kept your photo in a bottle of mezcal,
touched my eyes until they blistered,
the dark liquid waking me up
in a stolen cup, white sand in my mouth:
nocturnal silt, gritty loam -
i(t all) ripened, gladdened,
slackened, saddened and it happened
the same way nothing happens,
all of a sudden.
Come back, you said,
but to me your lips read, jump.
*
With thanks to the following poets for their beautiful words in the creation of this Cento, in order of appearance:
Endless Summer by Nate Pritts
Lover by Ada Limón
Saudade by Erika L. Sánchez
Göteborg by Eileen Myles
Cross/Bite by Tiana Clark
Late Summer Ode by Olena Kalytiak Davis
calenture by Charlotte Boulay
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Charlotte Hamrick 
OMG, this is a Cento poem? You really got that thing to “work” for you, some fair heavy lifting I mean. Sneaky too, kinda crept up on me. the same way nothing happens/all of a sudden – Gosh. Don’t matter the origin, you used it in just the right way & place. Nice job Charlotte.
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As always, thanks for reading, Neil!
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This one absolutely slays! Gosh, I’m kind of (read: “almost irrationally”) jealous… 😉
Just curious: did you borrow the “bleeding” title, as well, or was that your own, crowning brilliance?
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Thanks so much, Stephanie. The title was my decision to use the first few words from the “Endless Summer” line. It flows well, I think.
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Awesome! I’ll have to acquaint myself with this poem (and Nate Pritts, in general) now…
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