I was at a friend's pool after school.
She loaned me this impossibly tiny bathing suit.
I looked at it skeptically but I didn’t ask whose it was.
It smelled faintly of chlorine.
We were supposed to be alone.
Her older brother came home.
His eyes settled on my skin,
like a wash of immediate sunburn.
It was awkward and thrilling to be watched.
I pretended not to notice,
behind my sunglasses,
I ignored him.
My friend noticed. “Perv alert, let’s go in.” she said.
I didn’t want to go but I didn’t let it show.

Summer always makes me restless.
It brings out the truth in my bones,
the ache, the dream, the internal screams,
that sit dormant
waiting to be heard
all year long.

The taste of heat soaked rebellion
mixed with too sweet air that clings to my lungs, leaving me gasping.
Sweat glistens at the base of my throat,
and I dare the sun to burn its image into my eyelids.

Summer makes me gaze at every plane overhead
wondering where they are going,
and if I can come too.
It would be so easy to board a flight,
destination unknown.
Following the horizon
and sunsets fading glow.

Clear sky nights,
flickering insect stars piercing the darkness,
a symphony of crickets and cicadas.
Warm air resting on my skin that still holds heat from the day.

I could spend forever chasing Summer.

Seeds lay on pathways.
No such beauty than right here now.
Light this season up golden.

He stares into fields.
Yellow green that sunny day.
Beyond joyous feels.

Falling apples off trees.
Colonies of little ones here.
Apples, apples fall off my tree.

Last summer
our days sped by us
like Faris wheel highs
swept beneath sidewalk alleyways.
We traveled the world
in our little neighborhood of dreams;
a hand to hold so close
yet miles away in words.
We found the best
out of emptiness,
heartening our comfortable silence.

We found each other on accident
two summers ago from June,
hopscotched in one-night walks
on a bus going nowhere fast.
By then, we barely knew
how far the universe would take us
in a matter of months.
Now, all I can think about
is how to comprise your heart flutter
the same way your smile and cosmos
composed mine.

They recklessly mowed the grass everywhere
Cropped the lot !
(The city council landscapers)
  No verge
        park or public plot
             is left any freedom
                   in its fertility

misdeed

With no places remaining
          no long radiating grasses
                 for quality summer fornication
retreats must be made instead
                  to the usual abandoned properties
                             and construction sites

Giddy romantic tangles are given over
in their place
rutting animals
quick shameful *****
                     graffiti tagged
                               ***** soaked
                            damaged concrete
                      exposed hazardous detritus
                 damp, rust, broken glass and mutty
Absent are the breeding meadows of the gods
this year is no span of leisure
this year is smutted