in the summer months the dust gathers under my bed and in my skin lines.
there is so much wild want and beauty sprouting forth from the ancient stones.
there is a heavy love-longing in the air, harsh enough to cut your teeth on–
walking home from work the hill stretches sky ward and pulls your knees to your heart–
when the heart hurts it’s a wildfire.
when you fall in love your eyes turn ocean–in and out and in out–
there is chaos under your ribcage–this summer when you sweep your room 3 nights a week, and the dust still nestles under your covers–
there is a sweat-warmth to his hands.
everything comes alive thrice, as if enchanted–with the sunrise and the twilight, and again when the moon suddenly carves its way stark against the sky–
the summer seconds hurl through space like shooting stars, and there is no time to breathe,
no time to hold a moment, no time to say Iloveyou.