The backs of my thighs,
stick like Velcro,
to the sizzling leather seats.
Cars cooking in the sun,
lined up like biscuits on a tray,
parking lots slide into ovens,
four-hundred and twenty-five degrees,
bake for one shopping trip at the mall, a stop at Starbucks, and two gas stations.
Grass slips through my fingers; dirt collects under the curve of my nails,
petals are picked up by the wind, spinning like parasols through the air,
twirling overhead the delighted screams of children in the park,
sharp as stingers and sweet as the syrupy, golden glow of freshly poured honey.
Breezes bustling, bumblebees bumbling,
the dappled glow of sunlight glides over green leaves,
tiny toes making ripples in the pond,
the low croak of toads,
dark mud stuck to skin, squished in between fingers,
wearing wigs of moss and fighting with our cattail swords,
dragonflies skip across the water,
we watch the iridescent magnificence of their wings as they fly away.
The scent of ozone and the earth baking,
palms spread wide over sun-soaked concrete,
crystalline blue water and chlorine clogging our noses,
freckles fading in as fingertips dig out the plump flesh of fruits,
juices running down chins, stuck in smiles,
that explode into laughter.
At night, heat hugging us in the dark,
is not enough,
we build fires in the sand,
watch the jewel-red embers fly up to kiss the sky,
dance amongst the diamond pin-pricks of starlight,
chocolate smeared across cheeks, under eyes,
like war paint,
eating s’mores like I’m preparing for battle,
marshmallows gurgle and pop over open flames,
the crackle of the fire steals our oxygen,
we are breathless, giggling and dizzy,
watching layers of raw orange and red fire tango together,
seduced by its danger and brilliance,
until the pearl-gray light of dawn,
is speckled across the horizon.
The future melts before us, like ice in our hands,
cotton candy dissolving on our tongues,
as if time doesn’t exist,
and it’s only us.
We sweep summer over our shoulders and knot it around our necks like a cape,
we are superheroes.
We run across the ground,
like we are free from gravity,
not bound to earth,
instead we choose to stay,
but,
if you look close enough,
really look,
squint-your-eyes-tilt-your-head-stick-your-tongue-out-look,
you can see that our feet barely grace the ground at all,
and we are flying.
(we are superheroes.)