Midsummer

If we can fit a hummingbird between midsummer and lovers

I can count thirteen pairs of empty beds on it’s pelt

The white bedsheets turn a different shade of teenage affair

During the time of a midsummer under the Swedish sun

A first kiss in June is worth three wasted summers and more 

It tastes like strawberries with morning dew drops on them

The taste makes bodies turn to wrong ideas

And gods turn to loverless bodies

Makes them turn to the sea

Skinny dipping on the edge of the water

The salt collects on their shoulder blades

During the time of a midsummer under the Swedish Sun

July boys are just bad lovers,

Their slang is made of cheap philosophies

Used to make up for the white kisses

And their incompetence in loving

That blank space in their names

That one girl’s name in their mouths they can’t forget

As if they have fallen in love with the hope of returning 

That one bite disguised as a birthmark on the back of their neck

Turns red with the spark of memory

During the time of a midsummer under the Swedish sun 

I can’t love back 

Until the angel pats my hair and tells me to do so

It says love becomes a lover itself

During the time of a midsummer 

Sin bikes itself to the countryside 

And dips it’s feet in the water

I write an ode to the secret letters in our names and our upper lips

People like me live in summer

Dreaming of holding the bodies of those who don’t belong to us 

For kissing a star sets one ablaze

Cupping the cheeks of what we cannot love...

Youth becomes softer and more vulnerable 

During the time of a midsummer under the Swedish sun 

-By Srinjoyee Adhikary