Summer Slips from Skin

Summer slips from skin at turn of the trees

Sun-kisses drip, pilling at fingertips

Fake tan traded in for old memories

Reflected in pools like old movie clips

Memories on reel replace tv static

Hit play; cold days, roaming through crystal caves

Echo's not grey, displayed in chromatic;

And caves ricochet our spoken sound-waves

If summer was love, I’ll hold sun in my hands

and store thoughts of you in jar for keeping

Next to the one holding sea-glass and sand

Casting reels to the roof from moonlight seeping

I’d play every one to know your heart shines

And taste every drop like water to wine