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Summer's
Your hair
drips
in soft wafts
across your face
I drift
without aim
tease my legs
with a tan
Summer's land
my terrain
and your hand
without shake
pointing through
the maple leaves
where I can see
just the
thinnest tease
of blue sky
and following the line
of your arm
where it meets my shoulder
I can try
to believe
and as I lick at
my ice cream
Summer's feed
that you could be
mon amore
that you would never
yearn for more
on any given day
I try
to savor
every dip
of my spoon
until the last scrape
remains
so obtuse
it clings
stubbornly
And in it
I witness
all your
purse-lipped disdain
but I ignore
as you implore
me to notice
how I feign
and ignore
your huge smile
I am blind
to the corners
seething with the strain
of cheekbones lifted
your focus shifted
to some place
far away
But no
I do not
I am sustained
by digging
at the bit
of goodness
while I relay
so selfish
with relish
that I love
summer's way
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