Lemonade
BY DAVID LEON
She’s like lemonade on a hot summer day.
Glowing. A refreshing taste that soothes you. Sometimes I need two cups. I said come with me, to my room, to my life, I promise you the door is locked And I always keep a light on, But despite the precautions, despite the tough act I know you still got scared. I want you to know what “come here” doesn’t mean It doesn’t mean you have to sleep over It doesn’t mean you can’t say no And it doesn’t mean sex. Like Chicago weather You’re warm and you’re cold, We laugh and we talk, All in one day. That’s when I realized. With you it was never just sex. We sat and watched funny videos, Tickled each other until someone declared truce. Some people eat watermelon on hot summer days. And her stories touched my soul Like her hands touched me. And I shuddered as she moved them around my body Cold but gentle, like Chicago’s winters and first snow. Watermelon is a fine complement to lemonade She gives me that cliché sense of butterflies in your stomach. With her it’s not just the physical warmth of her brown body against mine, but her brown soul wrapping, hugging, holding onto me like there’s no tomorrow. Watermelon is sweet, refreshing, and free She would smile when I kissed her on the cheek, as my hands slowly grabbed her hips, She tiptoed to get near me, her hands playing in my hair Her lips got closer to mine, her body got closer to me as she whispered, “If you get me a Capri Sun I’ll love you forever”. I love lemonade, But I needed watermelon a little bit more. |