Summer

I long for golden months

Tinged with the sweet stretch of aching muscles;

Unbroken by scholastic 

worries. 

I long so that my heart becomes narrow, for straining —

I long for newborn light 

To clothe me in bronze,

And grace the broken skin on my torso

Scarred

Revealed softly by the curvature of suits

Meant for water. 

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