afternoons in july

he was a thoughtless jolly,
and so was i,

in the sunflower meadows, our brains were spewed like seeds,
but not like a gore and guts movie,
like sparkles escaping from a fairies wings,
trickling down air,

we only had eyes for each other,
keeping one another safe,
like wrought iron gates protecting a beautiful castle,

his lips were like angel's wings,
soft, and pale, and scared,
his eyes were like divine fingertips,
grasping at anything within reach,
captivating it, like the most miraculous spell,

in the sunflower meadows, we ran giddy until our legs gave in,
then we slept, disguised by a million yellow angels,
with sunshine kissing our cheeks,
and sunflower seeds hugging our noses,

he was a thoughtless jolly,
and so was i