Like the Last Day of June

30

Before you know it, it will be high summer
With blue shooting stars
At your fingertips
The air will smell pungent
Like wild mustard seeds

And it will be hot, hot enough
To stain your blouse with sweat

And you will feel warm and tingly all over
A hay fever of your femininity
There won’t be much to say
Not when we’re naked
On the last day of the jazz festival

There will be fireworks in another part of town
But in your bedroom, zippers will

Unzip, water against water
Skin to skin, before you know it
Evening will touch the last day of June
And you will whimper, and you will swoon
And I’ll be the one, stripping you
Your panties moist with excitement.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s