The summer that never happened
Wilted sunflowers rope through my hair
I try to braid the sunshine in
Through sand dunes in my head
For when I go to visit cold
Sea salt aftertastes
barbecued on my lips
As I lick the wind and wonder
How long the sea will last.
.
Ocean’s jungle sound tangle me back
As I surrender to the turning seed
The sun burns a tattoo in my skin
Will winter peel off youth like that.
.
Don’t go, I squeeze the shoulders
Of this old friend
Like watermelon between my teeth
Leaves fall instead of lemons
And lemonade turns stale on the windowsill.
.
Things happen, you say
As winter comes dressed in its fleece
And I pull off the layers before they trap me
Things happen, but I don’t want to
Spit the summer from my tongue just yet
I want to kiss you into forever’s never end
Swing into its freedom ring.
.
This summer is sliding away
Like trickles of sand off the surfboard
In the garage
And no matter how much I try
I can’t hold on.
.
I was never one to like the taste of sweet hot drinks
If the cold must come I’ll take it raw.
.
But maybe I’ll let the radio stay on
In the back room
And sing
Of the summer that never happened.
Lea Lumière is a freelance writer from New Jersey who has been writing since she was young. To find more of her poetry and prose, find her on Instagram @vintage.blue