The Freedom That Only Summer Can Bring

Twenty-three years without a really good kiss.

The kind that sounds like the electric guitar

and feels like fireworks.

I have not had a palm against my waist

that did not feel unclean and unfaithful.

May have danced on a bad man,

but have not danced with a good one.

Never have I been loved by somebody I love.

The kind of love that wraps around your finger

like a golden promise.

But there is a flaming ring above me

making my skin feel hot and sweaty.

And this base that bangs on my eardrums

is flowing life down to my feet.

And my hips may not be graced with the palm of somebody

who will bring me close to them and kiss me deeply,

but look at how they move,

fuelled by the freedom that only summer can bring.