It lazily wafts through the air

like the perfumes of sunscreen

seeping through the cracks of the plastic bottle

and creeping in the spaces between seat belts and headrests

and into the pores of delicate arms.

It rises and falls in a stomach

like a fire crackling against a black buzzing

summer, expelling a

warmth that fizzes in the grass and clouds

and that darts between shining legs.

It reverberates between walls

like the low chords of a piano, erupting

through the gaps of white keys and floating

away into hums that trickle into wood
and skin until

the music is its own living thing.

It is the sound of total silence

when the clock blares 1:00 in green light

and everyone and their cars are asleep –

the universe tucks you into a bed of peace,

offers you a pillow woven with solitude, and

upon your skin you drape contentment.