[summer is almost on…]

for the girl who got decapitated after graduation

summer is almost on
and the trees are blooming bruises
the streetlights are halos in reverse

and you were talking about
how you almost stumbled
on your way up to get your diploma
and how you need to buy sheets
for your bed in your dorm

the stereo is on
and the music is drifting out
through the rolled-down windows

on your way to a party,
maybe to drink, maybe for something else
maybe to see all of your friends
who just graduated with you

and it’s a short slide
a summer not longer than an exhalation
sitting in the passenger seat
next to your boyfriend
and the two of you swear

nothing will ever keep you apart

not distance not college parties
where accidents disguise themselves
lingering at the bottoms of plastic cups
and the closet becomes good
for something more than just hanging clothes

the future is something you try to grasp
with your hands, like trying to grasp
stars sliding across the midnight sky

but it’s the road that’s sliding
and the rear end of a truck
fills your dashboard
and your boyfriend ducks his head
the way he ducked between your legs
when your mother opened the bedroom door
and your cheeks were flushed and hot

he ducks, but you don’t
because you were mesmerized
by the way his pulse beat in his throat
when he talked about how much he loved you
and the metal severs you at the neck

your hair is a halo around your head

the sky is aflame
with expectation

and you want to reach out for his hand

the stars in the humid sky
burst in your vision
and your lips are still parted,
waiting to be kissed.


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