She had purple sunglasses.
She said she liked them
because she couldn’t
they made her sick.
The glasses let her
without a stomachache.
Burned Shades of Orange
I think you burned a
cucumber-scented candle earlier. It mixed
with the smell of our thirsty skin,
drenched in aloe after lunch
in the park, on the first
real day of spring. Everything was
We lay in cold sheets and
moaned in appreciation,
wriggling like children, and fanning
each other’s hot cheeks. Our eyes
were glazed so we slept for a bit,
dreaming of Alaska and all the blue
Everything could be sorted into
colours that summer, into temperatures,
and levels of SPF.