Pistachio flavored summers
Coated all the heat with malice
In a river down that one street in Belgium
Darling, darling, you’re joking
We live in a bubble, busted from the thorns
Of their prickly blizzards.

We’re cocooned by a blanket,
Made of wool and sparklers
No, balance is to far to find
Wobbling from one word to another
Smiling while she fakes
For a bear hug that lasts longer than mums
and as we tried so often to replicate the scene
we failed so perfectly
and we’re younger than ever before
we punch the air.
The stars here, don’t show,
and the wine is always sour--
but you share with the little ones anyway.

When she stands at the edge of the road you spot
Her,
and she smiles newly, like you’ve never seen
and you want her.
All the ghosts in the town come out.
They watch, with handfuls of popcorn and pop-
the one in the back see’s it coming
But like the rest of us, he
Sails away against the cheap backdrop of a skyline
For a cold, svelte suite to try on.