I'm going to taste every inch of this summer.
Every last salty ocean breeze, every last pink sizzling burn.
Every last brown speckled freckle.
Your sweet coconut suntan lotion skin.
Every last blond haired,
Blue eyed, Inch of you.
Or his green polo, the one I made fun of that time.
Or the way he asked me what was wrong.
And the way I told him, I was just tired.
Every last lick, of my pistachio cool green soft serve.
Don't forget the jimmies.
Every sweat soaked brow, on a scorching hot day.
When every parking lot, turns into.
A burning metal wasteland.
And above every car you can see, the heat.
Just soaking into the air, distorting everything in a wavy blur.
I want to taste every devious smile.
Every smirk you send in my direction.
Every time you hook my leg around your torso and whisper in my ear.
And every time I tell you I have to go home, but secretly want to stay.
I want to taste every tiny grain of sand.
Every endless spiral of conch shell.
Every periwinkle, starfish, even every hermit crab.
I want to taste every last inch of that first jump into the pool.
After sitting in the sun all day, baking.
The way that water hits your skin, so cold.
First your toes and then your legs and then everywhere else.
And how it surrounds you and your open your eyes.
And the world is in front of you.
Blue and lucid.
And you can't breathe but it's the only place where you can just take a breath.
