Carolina Gold—

She told me
“He fucked me in there.”
In honor of Sunday mass
Acres of massive tents. Where
Ever your blessing—
Mud like regurgitated wine.
        “The moon looks the same going in
        As it does, coming out.”
Out, over
Look. Pines clipped by both sides of
The blade—
        “It’s difficult to remember whether somewhere was
          just different or Better.”
Lonely
Necessary—hoping to elope.
Notice paces ahead.
Avenues of strollers, banks of
Lawn chairs and tents.
Whistles commence. I walk the edge, some
Tourists travel, the city
Limits shout with surprise. Where they went, into
The base
Meant to be.
Hiding from her house. Over
Night makes memory a feeling with
         A logo—changes to
        The Coastal Edge sign.
No trespassing sign on
The door—someone is up
Stairs no one takes except the
Spiders, crawling on cobwebs.
“He fucked me here too.”
We went out to lunch after,
What was the point of her showing me?
        Ward off the men you see in films
        Virginians watch
        Celebrity homes tumble into
        The Getty Fire, and
        Stalk photos of Kim Kardashian who was
        Here for a wedding.
        Her dress was
        Carolina gold.