I love the way you look in the summer. 

 

You wear summer like the south side of Huntington Beach with 

the style of inner Manhattan, laid back but with class.  

You carry the heat of the sand but the breeze of a 

New York rooftop bar. 

 

You taste like the mango habanero margaritas 

I consume too many of when the weather is hot,

cool and collected but with a hint of an inner flame. 

You’ve always had an inner fire to you, but I see it most when the weather is warm. 

 

You have the body of the exes I find myself returning to, 

dangerous, and a bad idea, every. single. time. 

but it’s absolute perfection

and it tans in the sunlight when you’re running 

near the water, accentuating every curve.

There isn’t a bad angle. 

 

You have the hair of cheesy romance movies, 

flawless and always moving in slow motion with the rest of your being

and it has highlights of the sun weaved into each strand of hair, 

lightening up a little bit more with each passing month. 

 

You have the vibe of my favorite hip hop songs

on the weekdays, nonchalant and steady in all the right ways

and on the weekends you’re enchanting like the island of Ibiza, 

drinking the perfect mix of fruit-hinted beers with

occasional sips of clear tequilas. 

 

You have the language of Paulo Coelho during the day, 

speaking to me like it’s your own religion, and

during the night you speak the language of 

Warsaw Shire, pushing boundaries in the most attractive but submissive way.

You’re not afraid to speak your mind in the summer.

 

You have the adventurous spirit of a safari in Africa 

the relaxed demeanor of a siesta taken in northern Spain

and I feel like I’m always traveling when I lie down next to you, 

windows open and the nighttime air brushing on our skin,

your heart in beat with the chirp of the nighttime crickets. 

 

You have the scent of saltwater during the day

from the humidity in the air and the

fragrance of expensive perfumes and colognes that cling 

to my skin and my clothes,

and I find your smell lingering everywhere I go. 

 

You have summer written all over you, 

on your skin, in your hair, 

through your words and in your scent

 

And summer has never looked as good as it does on you.

his piece has been published on Thought Catalog. You can view the published version here

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