You were my summer day, long
and stretched on. Hazy, thick with heat.
Your love felt endless. Heavy on my skin.
I felt you in all of my pores, seeping in
like the never-ending sunshine, like the sweat
that drips from the side of a cold glass of lemonade.
You were hot and dizzying. I could feel you, like static
fizzling through the phone lines, like the carbonation of soda
or the popped tab of beer. Something about you felt
refreshing, felt consistent, felt safe.
But the sun eventually goes down.
Cooling off the grass, the scorched earth
the bodies, red and raw from the afternoon light.
I walked away from you as the moon came up.
I ran my finger over my skin. It felt different,
strange. You exhausted my every cell
in your sunlight.
I used to love the warmth
but I’ve become sick from your burn.
You felt never-ending for a moment.
Something I could rely on.
But everything changes.
Even the seasons.