i ate so many plums and peaches and figs when they were in season and then the moment they went out of season i regretted that i didn’t eat more. moral of the story is that i should eat more strawberries rn - @youthsaint
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And here, our arms overflowing. Plums plucked from gilt bough and ironed vine, fields seeping in shade and green pasture. Summer, and white peach is lush on my tongue. The wind drags gentle fingers through the lawn and you kiss my palm with all the airs of a martyr. Your name, like a prayer. Your name, like a stone in my throat that refuses to wear smooth.
Rustling, and an unfurling. The way the air tastes as wanting melts away into fig kisses and the hiss of melting ice—heat-dizzy, the two of us fumble through the motions. The morning air is a lazy uprising that always ends with the two of us half-submerged in the pool. The smell of strawberries lingers on your hands, a reminder of swollen afternoons from so long ago. Young is what they call us, and foolish, but in my head it will always be July, the two of us sitting on garden walls, dipping hands into ponds of shade. |
Amy Wang is a sophomore from California. She has been nationally recognized by Scholastic and was a fiction mentee in Adroit’s 2020 summer mentorship. In her free time, you can find her reading fanfiction. Her work is forthcoming in Twin Pies Literary and Ogma. You can find her at @amyj_wang on Twitter.