Summer Solstice by Sherilyn Lee

You’ll have to cut me some slack.
I’m a little nervous. You ran your
finger along my forehead, tucked
my bangs behind my ear. I want to
stay and turn and run. Earth will
nod towards the sun tomorrow.
Midsummer’s light about to peak.
Our heads lean in. That night at
Spintana you winked across the table.
I blushed. I wanted to be cool.
Yes, you may refill my glass.
But I’m a fast runner. We held hands.
You’ve said that you run even faster.
But tonight you whisper don’t go.
The full moon will slip off my shoes.
The longest day of the year will give way.
You nuzzle my nape under luminescence.
You ran your finger along my forehead,
tucked my bangs behind my ear.
Gravity is a force that draws two bodies.
The axis is about to shift.

* * *

Also read a quartet by Sherilyn Lee.

Sherilyn Lee is the poetry editor of Angels Flight • literary west. Her poems have been published in Common Ground Review, The Rockhurst Review, Emerge and the museum of americana. She earned an MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles and currently is working on a poetry collection about work-life imbalance and a memoir about roller derby, in the moments in between serving as a ref for the L.A. Derby Dolls and as a social media and content strategist for The Good Men Project. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

Photo: Grant Palmer Photography