Getting Lucky in August

Put on an antiquey shift and baroque collar
and stand in the garden, gorgeously tarnished.
You’ll like this: eyelet lace and knitted silk
in a cool, cerulean hue. Look rich and take on
the world—risk the Riviera, quietly glam.
The end of summer was easy, decadent;
I sprayed your nectar on and couldn’t stop
smelling myself, black & blue in the woods
in my salt-ravaged dress. Midnight laser-cut
with flecks of gold, a nod to a past era—
the moment I first came across your body:
tangled, soft and berryish. Come fall, you’ll give
your diaphanous beauty to a seafaring American,
rugged in butter-thick leather, carrying chains.