Those late summer nights when we kissed
as Bohemian Rhapsody was being drunkenly sung around us,
the less connected we became;
You were enthralled about the future of
the next step you could cross while
I was too aware of the absent past we had never created.

Kissing friends with empty mouths in the heart of
june’s and july's became my home,
crowded with knick knacks of nothing.
August appeared and the familiar faces had long grown to
become lonely strangers now ready with their bags packed,  
the other months calling them to come home.

The first boy I kissed had too many plane coordinates for
me to keep up with no matter how hard I tried.

The last boy I kissed had too many kisses on his lips before mine,
holding onto too many girls hearts lazily in his back pocket and
a real home thousands of postcards away.

One day there will be a kiss that will not leave me
with an unsettled heart and new meanings to the words
temporary and genuine for there
are still still winter winds, spring hymns and
autumn hues to hold hands in.

My heart is not to meant to catch in the summer heat
only to be left to burnout once the words
‘leave’ and ‘leaves’ are too applicable in the silent fall air.

These bare kisses leave me with unspoken hellos, goodbyes
and the heartbreaking notion that summer hazes don't last forever.