June
after Hailey Small
brings martinelli’s to book club, takes two naps on sunday, stocks up on sunscreen. She’s strawberries drizzled in honey and sprinkled with lavender and a little bit of flake salt. June wears malachite
and tells you she’s shedding, nothing to do with her uterine lining and everything to do with her boss and her boyfriend and her boundaries. June gets voice notes from her lover and saves them like her favorite song.
June gets called a bitch at work. She doesn’t close the blinds when she kisses, she’s not shy. June walks to work with an umbrella or a steel cup or a brick. You could call her crazy but can you blame her?
June is my ex-lover in the mountains, who can’t say she loves me without a mushroom or two, I’m glad she’s here but I know she’s leaving me, she’s beautiful, but fuck, I don’t want to be cold again.
2 thoughts on "June"
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Shew! Love this poem. What a way to end the month!
Wow! Really great images!