(may)

too many lost loves, one born and buried in the now muddy ground of these thirty one flavors of hell

the green
slowly takes the brown
the allergies
soon take over
the ability
to breathe
beautiful to itchy eyes

(june)

the freedom of warm winds, of oiled bike chains, stolen kisses in the dead of night, a son is born

a time for firsts
first kisses
first exploration
of the opposite sex
sweating together
as the sun baked down
on new love in the tall grass

(july)

it took no time for the lush green to turn brown, the soil to crack, the sun to smother all

dying by inches
swimming
in a lake of lava
shedding
past lives
past loves
burnt to ash

(august)

ambivalence breeds in the heat, the taste of salt on her skin, our eyes locked, our bodies in sync

dead eyes
staring up at the stars
no reaction
to the over abundance
of light
dimming
fade to black