solstice
Anne Delatte

summer only dies choking if we let it.
i let nothing. i force myself
on change. i tie my hair up
in a locket and stuff it down
its throat. it brokes no argument.

where are your leaves now? falling
dead like cowards. you tried
to d(r)own me and i grew
gills prominent as pantylines
and twice as fierce. show me
what goosebumps we’re working
with and i’ll show you
that you expect tomorrow.

it is different. or not.
or you are trying to connive
me into cold. like you think
i am a fool with my mouth hanging
open waiting for breath to fall out.
i won’t let you. i let nothing.