i welcome the stars with wine and guitars

I've been outside every day, as long as possible. Picnics have become the standard, and freckles like trinkets collect. My hair gets lighter as it does longer, and I'm afraid of it becoming blonde, domestic yellow in place of my red. Oh well, the sun will have its way.

Late night bike rides clear my head, and our air conditioner is broken. Slurping ice cubes on the balcony; reading and rereading the same sentence as before. With quiet confidence, hello summer.