Rust matches the color of popsicles in the summer.
Staining my tongue dark,
I get lost in the stain glass reflections of sun beams dancing across
My bed sheets.
Winter, a dingy moth, a jealous creature.
I long for eternal sun.
Why did I only love you in the summer?

I am nostalgic for a time when all I needed was to dream.
I call upon the wretched and joyful,
Angels with torn and battered wings.

I am nostalgic for the sun room in your house,
With the big grey couches that swallowed us whole.
I am reminded of how much of a shared passion between two is a game.
You taking, and me giving, you walking away.  

I am an ode to Merlot sunrises,
When it is early enough I catch the moon kissing the sun.
I swim underground between tree roots looking for
The reasons you need.
Oak, Birch, Maple.
I try to summon the words to prove to you that I can only
Hold my breath so long.

Catch me.
I am falling into pine cone traps and thistle memories.
I am reminded of mornings when I walked home four,
Twilight hours are filled with ghosts of us.

I am burning from the inside out.
Bonfire love, you are a dangerous spectacle.
I walk over your bed and tickle you into blue embers.