summer comes and goes in magic breezes, teasing touches and the exhaled promises of a yawning sphere and lucidity:
the delusion and the lazy strolls with tongue's bared to lap the matted snow stuck in-between skin folded crevices of a veined glove // venus honeysuckle and stratospheric firecrackers// illusions and the mandatory nap at sun-high, knee-deep in coin water.
there are pixies dozing in the violet flowerbeds, skin mirroring the underside of the petals.
and for it's length the world is painted aglow
in ambrosian ichor//breathing in sanguine warmth
as rays of helios explore the inviting earth// seeping like velvet frankincense into this shattered, beautiful planet.
and there is rain//light sprinkling showers that make meadows of rainbowic splendor glisten in moist perfection. (hope of a elf-eared pot of gold .)
summer is a dream that only lasts for so long.
and yet/ once she appears in the green-dipped kiosk wearing nothing but peachy flip-flops that brushed criss crosses of pretty, pretty bruises // an oversized flamingo feathered hat//and a seasonly dress that watercolored sun-spotted melanin flames...
he kind of hopes that she's the kind of girl that lasts forever.
preferably buying peach pie.
©
(not really a poem)
