June

The days are sunny as sunflowers,
Warm as our bedsheets during late mornings,
The sun sliced through curtain blinds, 
Your silhouette split by light slides, 
Skies slick as polished mirrors, 
Afternoons bright as a beer buzz
On a beach of glittering sand, like a field of diamonds,
And salt water - silver - sharp as metal.

The days are sunny as sunflowers,
And the squint in your eye is tighter than usual,
Slits so fine I see horizon lines across the ocean
When you smile.

The days are honey, syrupy thick,
Eggs runny,
Just the way you said you like them
That day we wrote poems over brunch,
The ground, blazing raw,
Where bare feet are pricked by the heat of a 
Sizzling skillet,
Like the day we burned the bacon before work. 

Stretched as roads, drunk on a daylight
That won't let go of the hours,
These days are long and funny,
The way we latch to you so easily, the sun and I, 
Your skin so quick to blister,
Makes me wonder how you adapt to me so well,
The cool of your shades shelter these veins that carry an island
With the ease of an Indian Summer,
And you remain like the days,
Flawlessly radiant and sunny as sunflowers.

-LBCH