If you tilt your head back, to smile a laugh
The trees turn sideways.
Perpendicular to their kin on the hillside
If you tilt your head back.
The gentleness of your lips will push,
lifting the weight of the day from your cheekbones, eyelids.
The sky in front of you, begging to be consumed.
Old rock songs our moms used to sing whisper out of the radio,
from when gas was cheap and love was free.
If you tilt your head back, I’ll peer over my cheeks at yours, flush from the last peak of daylight, before turning back to enjoy mine.
The golden hour, ours.
Wax Poetic by Julia Johnson 