The Arms of Summer

I want to sleep forever in the heated arms

of summer. I want to dream

the same dream as you.

 

I want to move in sleep as you do,

Murmuring almost-words into twinkling

darkness.

 

I want to hear restless water and rustling leaves

In the blanketing hum

Of cicadas.

The sharp smell of freshly cut grass. Memory

Of this in the smell of your hair.

Your hair drifts like seaweed in water.

You move in me.

You move in me.

You move