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Who are you, when Summer comes knocking?
Or: a more-so-than-the-other-one love letter to heatwaves
„Who are you,
When summer comes knocking?“
An arrangement of atoms
settled in fresh sheets.
A symphony of flesh,
Merged with melted sugar
On the still-heated floor
Of a pot.
A bone-bouquet
Draped across a restless planet,
A feastless table,
A fearless soul,
A home
Untended to.
[July.]
When the un-light
First came upon me
It licked my skin, hot and heavy
Made me trickle with want.
A want for the world,
For boiling skies,
For comfort
and summer
To haunt me.
[August]
When the un-light
Sauntered deeper
It flicked a fire-kissed stone
Across my freshly thawed surface.
A flat stone, polished, shore-born.
Bouncing thrice, before plunging inside.
[September.]
When the un-light
Unfolded in dry storms
It revived the relicts in my lungs
From restless hibernation.
I wish I could scream the summer out,
But i’ll jar it up
for autumn.
© Nachtschwärmer
„Who are you,
When summer comes knocking?“
An arrangement of atoms
settled in fresh sheets.
A symphony of flesh,
Merged with melted sugar
On the still-heated floor
Of a pot.
A bone-bouquet
Draped across a restless planet,
A feastless table,
A fearless soul,
A home
Untended to.
[July.]
When the un-light
First came upon me
It licked my skin, hot and heavy
Made me trickle with want.
A want for the world,
For boiling skies,
For comfort
and summer
To haunt me.
[August]
When the un-light
Sauntered deeper
It flicked a fire-kissed stone
Across my freshly thawed surface.
A flat stone, polished, shore-born.
Bouncing thrice, before plunging inside.
[September.]
When the un-light
Unfolded in dry storms
It revived the relicts in my lungs
From restless hibernation.
I wish I could scream the summer out,
But i’ll jar it up
for autumn.
© Nachtschwärmer
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