Summer Days

We can’t go back.

Of course,
I know this but

the heat of those summer days
where the blue burned our eyes
and the grass,
hot needles to our feet.
The concrete bold
in its desire to burn
yet beckoning anyway.

Those wood-paneled walls
and ancient air conditioner
with every weak gust of cool wind,
but we paid no mind to any of it,

the cool,
the hot.

Because no air escaped
from between our skin,
no breath lost amongst our mouths,

the sharp ecstasy of it all,

the blatant glory
of us
in that hot room aching with desire
to be just


One thought on “Summer Days

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s