.summer.

with summer
comes bluer skies
and a kind of heat that makes it hard
to want to wear even the smallest amount
of clothes.

and the sun-kissed skin
exposed
tempts even the most controlled
to want to touch.

a shoulder
ripe with freckles
and everything south

and romance.
or the idea of such
the
sex
love
irresistible urges
that force us to question
which is which
and does it really matter
anyway.

and with the solstice
my hair is red
but my heart
it is as the deepest sea
and my mind almost black
a blank slate
prepared for the etching
of another.

lover.

.in a new york minute.

i am feeling so much
but not allowing it
to rule me
to change me

i think i'm warranted to have
thoughts
but i think maturity
is realizing you can't act
(that's inappropriate for my regret)

trying to make an effort
trying to take control

trying not to let this take me again

and only i can help.

(everything can change)