Letters to My Summer Lover.

Those late, summer nights,

have always given me the best memories.

We’d sneak out and go to a field,

just watching the stars,

talking all night long.

You’d tell me about you’re movie star dreams,

And your mile long bucket list.

Your car always smelled like pizza,

It made sense because you worked a summer job at Papa John’s.

I miss getting free bread sticks,

and listening your bizarre stories about your co-workers.

I loved those nights the most,

when we would eat out at Waffle House,

because it was the only place open in our old farm town.

Remember when we saw my mom’s best friend there,

and had to leave before she recognized us?

That was so funny,

now that I’m looking back on it.

We got so scared even though she probably wouldn’t have cared.

Oh, and the cliche walks on the beach.

How huge of a crush I had on you,

Just wondering if you felt the same for me.

When you held me close,

you smelled like a fresh cappuccino,

waiting on my marble kitchen counter.

It made me feel secure and protected,

from the breathtaking darkness around us.

I remember the night time crickets,

would attempt to hoodwink our perfect nights.

We were smart enough to not let them phase us,

but dumb enough to let them get a scare out of us.

We knew if our parents ever found out where we were,

we would be forever looked down on.

Forever chastised.

I’d be forced to never see you again,

but we would just go through the same routine,

we’ve been doing for months.

But like any great love fling,

they all die.

Our love was thrown in the gutter,

with the rest of the summer lovers.

Looking back, those nights were so wicked.

Breaking into hotel swimming pools,

and screaming out the window at the top of our lungs.

I know I don’t see you now,

and I want you to know I’m doing quite swell.

Just remember to swing around the back way to my house,

when the summer nights revolve around us again.