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To Summer.


you are seasonal flowers we make perfume from your petals we pour it over our feet we pick strawberries and stargaze and pretend to catch fireflies with our eyes

you are road-trips and swimming and sunshine and when you rain,

we swim underneath \ it feels like stars falling on the surface of


you kiss our faces when we breathe

you are camping libraries sheets draped over three bookshelves \ we lie underneath and pretend we are under the milky way

it is a river above and we canoe through the water the waves on windy days we go fishing for fairy moss white

~ lilies ~

and little tadpoles that tickle our ankles; summer, i climb on your shoulders, frantic and laughing

you are a museum we walk through you. we are a hundred photographs on the wall we are the frame we wear our art

our heart

it is the colour of the sun; never forgetting to shine we sleep in it and wake to the light


you are the languages we learn in the moments between custom and security

we come so alive in your sky and the mountains they meet us the clouds they cover

we slip and slide

we build sandcastles and swing around

and around

on the tire swing

behind th

e lake and we listen

to vinyl

we watch people. we come and go. we buy ice cream from an ice cream van and diy insect repellent jars.

we learn many things we carry them in our hands walking barefoot over bog and stone and garden-grass

to backpack and bus

and fall.


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