"When I think of her, I can feelthe heat of Summer breathing downthe neckline of my floral dress.I..."

“

When I think of her, I can feel

the heat of Summer breathing down

the neckline of my floral dress.

I count all of the flowers on the cloth

that’s keeping my naked body hidden,

and with each new number, I remember

a memory that she and I once shared.

There is river behind my home,

and I cannot tell you how many times

that she has told me that she wishes

it could swallow her whole; leaving

nothing behind but an old pair

of oxfords that her mother worked

multiple midnight shifts to afford.

She always looked so beautiful

when the sun was washing her body

with its rays. She even looked beautiful

underneath the moonlight; her eyes

that were full of milky constellations.

Whenever I would look at her,

I swear that her face had been able to

outshine the galaxies of planets

that neither of us could ever remember

the names of.

But I will always remember her the most

when she was the most vulnerable.

When her skin was flaky from

not being touched in the right way

on the right places of her body.

But when my embrace was upon her,

even she said that my caress

could have made even the most sensitive

of people come back, begging for more.

”

- “A sense of nostalgia," - Colleen Brown