sometimes i wish i could take a picture of how the summer smells.
it would look something like a yellowed polaroid picture.
there would be freshly mown grass, warm air and some sun flare. i would be holding his hand, my hair frizzy and blonde and damp from swimming in salty water, my cheeks red and eyelashes bare. we would be standing in knee high grass with his truck in the background, dirt and sweat in a happy sheen on our brows.
in the picture, there would be wildflowers and kissing and pool-colored nail polish. maybe hanging in the corner a bonfire, crackling and smokeless from the good, dry wood from the bridges we burn. we would be brown-skinned and eating hamburgers and watermelon and homemade strawberry ice cream.
there would be stars and a fire in my stomach and his cologne mixed with the smell of tan skin. there would be jean blankets and firework leftovers.