first drops of the summer beyond white.

gold shines where the remains of syllables

of a decent life and money and fever.

rushes of touch, hot, and sadness are here!

no room for rhymes or limbs to press to him.

the easiest of two letter words are grave.

i’d love for a chance or room or a try at

some sort of laughter and ghosts and love!

i’ve tried and left and purged everyday too...

this wild solstice has reigned and striked right.

held hands on the moon and kissed on rides.

hatred once and now? yellow and sun.

lacking, the abundance of sheets filled of

words and cries and dreamy hot summer nights.

existed and lives and this solstice stays.

concerts. weird necklaces. the remains of spring.

final tickets that taped themselves in my journal.

no right & steady breathing, just summer solstice.