Dog days of summer
How doth thou steal
Sweet blackberry plunder
How will I ever heal?

Cars passed fast
breeze swishes trees
As if spirits
Floating so free

A whisper they hiss
run faster than fastest
to grocery store produce bliss
give those blackberries
                                  a little kiss

i spent the season planting seeds
take time to breath
it all happens so fast

my hands are rough
from the branches, sticks and lifting
hardly enough space
to remember i was missing you

the boxes packed and ready to be sold
the air felt colder
i cut off all my hair
to feel the wind on my shoulders
there was no more hiding
who could i come clean to now?

we all have our seasons
we all have our seasons
you, me, the cosmos in between
we all have our seasons
we all have our seasons
harvesting is just one of them

lonely, i am not alone
just trying to get used to the solo home of bones
let me be this hollow shell
to fill and let go
to hold a place inside to grow
A human having a souls experience

i stopped looking and i found
i stopped thinking and listened to the sound
of the room without walls
it was quiet and sweet
to sow and to reap
remember to take time to breath
it all happens so fast

i've hidden a note in an old library book that i never returned
i ripped the sleeve off and wrote my name in red permanent ink
it smells of oak wood and dust
i felt a warm guilt that i haven't felt since i was 8 years old
when my shoe slipped on dog ****
and i went into class with muddled shoes that smelled of underdeveloped intestines twisting
i think you would understand the embarrassment
the itching sting that my chest surrendered to when everyone asked where it was coming from
this particular note was written in a momentary relapse of admonition
an answer to a question that wasn't answered
will you look in the rubble, where i told myself to stop talking about god all the time
the moon never replied to my letters so i drank my weight in wine
and when i woke up the sender's address was swindled between postmen whose hands were too crooked to open the mails slots

Your hands must be soft as nectarine skins
in summer.
Old skin torn away by hardship
to reveal new beginnings,
and when I feel your fingers against my own
I know it’ll be the start of something
much more wonderful
than when we were alone.

sometimes
            
                i really want a juicy ripe deliciously sweet pineapple on a hot summer day the way the juice drips down my chin as i devour the sweet succulent fruit


other times

                i might want a healthy green fruit to snack on such as an avocado feeling the rough interior skin only to cut it open and find the soft green buttery deliciousness inside i love the way my lips feel as the smooth flesh hits my throat with flavor

you see
                
                i like both of these fruits being bisexual is like
enjoying these fruits i will always like both but on some days i might want more of the other but no matter what i will always love both