By Emily Little
The evening was a candy pink with scattered lilac thunderheads flashing lightning of red wine and daisies, crickets weeping. Do you remember? Because I do. I can still smell the sweet grass. It reminded me of green tea. I remember your laugh and the fire in our touch. The blanket is still stained red from the strawberries we forgot. I can still taste them from your kiss. Do you remember that summertime breeze? Or that divine electricity? Because I do.
Also by Emily Little: Under Summer’s Sky