by Sage Leona

in the golden hour that lasts three months
i smoke a cigarette
&&&&&&and fall in love
the warmth feels endless, and it is
{from the tan on my legs
&&&&&to the taste of your kiss}
tobacco lingers on my breath
the nicotine dances in my head

‘but what good thing lasts more than a season’
taunt the bees who have been nursing my hiding spot
‘what extraordinary smile does not begin to turn ordinary’
says the boy whose blue eyes possess worlds he will never know of

for they each have grown angry with my restlessness
or tired of my demands

so when the gentle touches cease to resonate
i smoke a cigarette
&&&&&and fall out of love
i no longer need my rose-colored glasses, because
{the smoke only clouds my
&&&&&mind in the summertime}
the sun is setting while
the warmth has faded

i don’t know what has happened to the bees
they have fallen asleep from our smoke that reached them
they do not hum while the air is cold
and the water in his blue eyes has turned to ice

for I have been walking a fine line and they have shown me
what is good only for the golden hour
&
&

Sage Leona

Sage Leona is a cancer who enjoys putting her emotions into words that other people can read and understand. She is a senior in college and hopes to one day join the Peace Corps and be a bartender.

Artist: Terry Runyan