Do you remember the sweet strawberries we would suck on all summer,
the tangy juice dribbling down our chins
as we plastered our sticky hands all over the floor and walls.
The summer evenings where we would sit idly,
watching as the sky melted into crimson red
and the last rays of light were devoured by the hungry night.
It was the summer of the pink underbellies of salmon
as they chased each other through the streams, startling flashes of silver
we sat there, huddled by the stream, awaiting the glory of catching one.
The bittersweet meandering through fields of poppies,
their petals waving in the wind as we stomped by
with their faces turned up to the sun in an endless smile.
It was the summer of the color red.
But, later, it was also the color of your laugh, vivacious and bright
echoing throughout my bedroom, ricocheting off the walls.
It was a sweet scent that seemed to linger around you,
wafting through whatever room you happened to be in.
It was the wailing siren of your lipstick,
that pop of color staining your lips and mine.
It was the rush of heat that flew to your cheeks
when I first said you were beautiful.
It was the sweet taste that lingered on your mouth
the taste of adventure and heartbreak.
It was the color of strawberries smeared on your face
All summer long