What we do in June
as the days stretch into sunsets,
gold stains our ***** skin,

What we do in June
as nights fill the shells that winter shaped,
we become reborn in the lake down the hill,
until we are ready to confess the secrets we will hide all summer,

What we do in June,
after laughter and drinks,
probably a few too many,
is create stories that some day we will lose,

and have to try to recreate in a series of words that
don't come close to the fun we had,
every night,
laughing until we ached,
thanking God for every day we have here,
where dirt gets under our nails and
our hair never had the time to dry in between
the pools we hopped,

What we do in June
is thaw
from a cold winter,
and warm our frozen bones,
and begin once again,
with a life full of things worth writing about,

What we do in June,
love, ***, trees, drugs,
our memories will fade,
but softly like the sunset into that one lake
where we all lost our virginities.

What we do in June is ours to keep,
it's ours to make