flutter

all the windows down,
chirping so loud you cannot hear your own damn dreams,
with all this damn light pollution we can still see enough stars to keep our hearts smiling.
shorts cut off as high as they could go
and sandals worn so often (or not) that there are permanent lines from where the straps have always been,
criss cross.
towels out on the grass,
our bare asses out in the sun,
and every ten minutes i hear you cracking a new one open amidst the deep noise of the warm, full air.
sand all over the floor of my room and our mothers say we live like animals
animals out in the summer sun