summer’s day
June 29, 2009
sweet juice from a too ripe honeydew
drips down our cheeks
onto our chests
down our shirts
so bright colored fuzz sticks to our skin.
grass sneaks up my skirt and through the holes in your jeans
and the little bugs crawl up our legs
crawling behind our knees
sucking up sweet juice
to get slapped and leave little bright stains.
thunderstriken winds pull our hair around
leading us towards the filling puddles and asphalt brooks-
that will wash away blood, fuzz, juice-
and when the valleys become lakes
i suppose we’ll part ways.
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