Summer Love

I’m a lovesick puppy dog. Torn between “wet behind the ears” and growing into maturity. Much like the process of drying fruit, if done properly, it gives the substance more flavor. If Done Properly And it begs many questions, Makes me open my eyes and look into the less obvious. I’m not at all surprised by the loss of my breath, Not from anticipation, but from the catch in my chest. It says, “You’re caught.” It says, “Sit tight.” I choose to find beauty in the unknown and uncertain. And I have a feeling that what’s going to happen.. is just starting to begin.