I weakly smile as she makes a joke. I forgot her name, but she doesn’t need to know that. Instead, I take a fake sip of whatever is in my cup; I don’t trust it. My dad taught me that trick. “See you,” she drawls, her hair brushing my face as she turns around.

Love everlasting

Love is only lasting

When you put yourself last

Kinder a love within lantern light flames and

Let the wax drip to seal the cracks of your previously broken heart

Redeem your wrinkled hands and

I feel like a shattered stained glass window.

The summers of my childhood meant dirty feet from playing ball without shoes, calloused hands from one too many rounds of the monkey bars, and racing to eat popsicles before the humidity melted their contents away. I was a good kid, but also a curious one.