Sophie

17

When you Leave the Bottle Open

We are what’s left
of winter. The chill has turned
the marrow in our bones
numb, our tongues blue. It sticks
to the roofs of our mouths.
We don’t melt until the sun
has hidden and our skin has fallen
off in flakes. We taste our sun-
broken lips, burn with hard lemonade.

My body has refused
to melt against yours. My tongue still stuck to the ice
between my teeth. I don’t know how to say-
I have fallen for
the smoke puffed from your cigarette.
Make me that toxic
summer song that falls
like the current, rest my head on your knees.

When the sun comes out,
it cradles our skin
its underhanded insult burning
the lining of our stomachs.
When the sun comes,
I have forgotten the taste of winter bone blue.
It has been replaced with sunset orange soda,
the carbonation going flat the longer
the bottle is left open.