by LE Francis
Here comes the heat
again. & in my opinion
I’d be fine without
another summer
in the pines. Without
swallowing swallowtails
& choking on the flutter
& wondering why
the deep space freeze
of my palms suddenly hold
the surface of the sun. He is
as gorgeous as the summer, he is
light years away, & I’m only
an observer of the stars. I have
too much to do, too much to say
& I can only read
the constellations
for someone else.
Still I can’t help but feel
all the suns, the worlds,
the invisible lines between
my heart & his hands –
another summer
in the pines, in the heat,
I guess I’ll survive.
LE Francis is the fiction editor of Sage Cigarettes Magazine.
