Cloud Coverage - Total

I find him in a backyard with a front-toothed gap

the stereo is broken and the sunny days are too limited.

The grass is freshly cut and so is his long hair

the daisies howl about how the sunny days are too limited.

I am freshly fifteen, he is a musty shade of fluency

but in December the sunny days are too limited

April smelled like rain and May runs in the opposite direction

but still, the wind agrees the sunny days are too limited.

His lips are like tasting cherry soda on a Friday,

and it seems as though the sunny days are too limited.

In my heart swim butterflies and in his eyes pose warmth

greeting me as the sunny days become more limited.

And slowly as the clouds drift by he whispers in my ear,

the sunny days will always be too limited.

flutter

summer wind, the best oxygen

the trees swaying carefully with the breeze,

and the sound of crackling sunflower seeds between your teeth was my aesthetic.

and if we're being honest here,

anything you do is my aesthetic.

the butterflies in my stomach have a habit
of fluttering out the corners of my mouth 

every single time I smile;

I smile because I remember a one-liner 
that only sounded funny through your words;

your lips always twitch when you laugh. 

I listen to the songs I sing with you

and I miss them because

they aren't the same 

without your soft voice echoing the harmony.

"Just give me a try
Been kind of hoping you might"

we are oh, so right.

and these butterflies, 

I hope they never die.