vanilla and hysteria

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i savor summer-
it's simultaneous sanctity and serendipity.
yet i squirm at it's sanctuary-
which sets the safety to soften.

i am congealed-
cream on a cone,
a casual coolant for the collective,
and in turn, a helper for the holding hand.

yet the sun's rays are snug-
affectionate and intimate.
they're ideal for all-
all except me.

i spill onto shirts and shoes,
stain spots you thought they paved over,
so skip the clean up- it's out,
cause summer's made sticky now.

straight a'sDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora