He Is Summer
He is summer always,
Smelling like June inside my heart.
And he’s like sleep after
A long day’s work.
He’s like silent footsteps,
Pacing against the words
That I try to take back.
He touches me delicately,
And I feel that it’s been so long
Since I touched a waiting hand.
Breathless, as he approaches,
I kiss his naked palm.
Eyes like sky and flame,
He throws his gaze toward me
And it’s impossible
To look away
Or linger in his shadow.
He’s wearing his smile and
Cold, bare feet,
Smelling like June inside my heart.
© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila
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