she washes her face with cappuccino cream
her eyelashes are showered in burnt coffee.
It's never been so hot in June
and it has been months since she's peeked at the moon.
One month left, she tells her reflection -
that is, one month left until summer truly starts,
one month left until papers are due and life is true
one month until you swim in purple stripes
and ticks take hikes
and lines catch pikes.
One month left and then you can let go and fall apart.
And then...
What will hope behold?