in the afternoon sun we 

 become

 different people.

we

change

color

and change into color

intuitively
our palms leak warm light
our eyelids redden
with vessels tightened and urge

urge
to bottle the sunlit sky
while it lasts
and place it on our bedside table
as a token for the divine vicissitude
of day
beneath a synthetic device we’ve created
to mimic the organic sun
when it dissipates
and leaves behind darkness
and
a bunch of men and women
ripened by its luscious fire
like fruit
prepared for the night.