with the morning sunlight swimming in your soft skin,
white gleams like milk in your cold fawn-colored coffee.
the scent wakes me as does your liquid smooth voice.
it swirls beside your unclouded springtime complexion.
i'd bathe in your face forever; you're resplendent with luster.
i'd let you drown me if it meant you at most desired me.
i'd deluge in your caffeine if you'd like to talk together.
finals are finished, and
you tell me you're spending this summer alone,
apprising you prefer everything that way.
i wonder if your radiance still lingers.
july's growing old, and
i want to see the skeletons you secrete,
waiting for the heat to fade into nothing,
to sprout roots in its coffin, stay unmoving.
summer is leaving, and
daylight drenches me like autumn colors tinge my cheeks.
i'm quarantined in a smite that can't be shaken out,
staring at the sun until i hallucinate your face.
sipping water in the café seconds from our new school,
morning twilight seeps through the glass, invoking reveries.
my friends drink and talk over the fawn-colored coffee.
lately, just about anything reminds me of you.
i hate that you might be something i won't let myself have.
