Summertime romance –
a flirt, fling, or anything
hot under the sun.

Storms try to shake me
but though I seem made of wood,
my frame is iron.

Thunder in my head
which pains me even while it
sets my heart ablaze.

A voiceless terror
leaves me trembling on my knees
feeling impotent.

I hear their song but
there’s no music in my heart –
the notes don’t reach me.

And our summer days
took us from book bondage to
wage slave summer jobs.

Anger’s a black bile
which clings to my throat and taints
each and every word.

My heart strings quiver
at the mere sound of your voice
when I arrive home.

I met a woman,
the kind you cannot ever
bring home to Mother.

The night in her eyes
completely obscured all of
the sin on her lips.