On melting

It might be the heat but it feels
Like early summer breeze:

The valley is hollow and swollen, waiting
For sun then rains and
Sticky sweat on lover’s necks
and skirts to ruffle from now to then

It might be summer but it felt
Like home,

Like in all the melancholy of late afternoon heat
You would come, reprieve.
Cool shade and ice cubes,
to calm me
To roll refreshingly down into my chest..

It might be summer but it felt like home,
You answered with ease as if
it hasn’t been years as if,
the planet still spun and we,
We were alive in the same kind of spring

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