Lake so smooth I thought of you,
how your bare thigh held my head
those easy going days and nights
before things turned bad.

Lake so smooth I thought of you
rolling joints on the pink glass table,
pink like lips, pink like waking
from the sleep of deep concussion.

Lake so smooth I thought of you,
body of your golden Gibson,
wake like string across the chasm 
of the whirl of memory.

Lake so smooth I thought of you,
slick like butter on the plate,
your blonde hair on the pillowcase,
my fingers dipped in water.