i. a summer day, sticky hot, i can feel the sweat running down my back. the sun shines without mercy. an ice cream cone sits in my hand as i wonder who will come to end my bitter loneliness.

ii. the boy reeks of summer, his smile radiating from his mouth just as the sun radiates heat. he doesn’t eat ice cream, he says, something about being lactose intolerant? i can’t focus on anything but his sparkling hazel eyes.

iii.  it’s still warm but not uncomfortably so. we’re seated on the green grass. it’s evening and the sun has begin to sink beneath the horizon. purple and rose hues take over the blue of the sky as we watch in awe. i don’t know what happens but suddenly our eyes are off the sky and on each other. his lips taste like a cherry popsicle.

iv. we have late nights every day watching the stars. each star makes me wonder, in a world as fantastically cosmic as ours, how did i have the fortune to meet you? i wonder if you are thinking the same thing. every day the same thing happens and every day i don’t know what led to it but now our eyes and sticky hands and sweet lips are on each other and now it is the stars’ turn to watch us.

v. he loves ice cream but it isn’t good for him.

vi. every time i eat a cherry popsicle i think of the boy with the hazel eyes.