Summer

Summer
Summer is the taste of blackberries. At times mouth-twistingly tart, the memory of a friend leaving, moving to another state. Sometimes disturbingly sweet, the checkout guy smiling at you and looking you up and down, then only pretending to swipe the tag of the sweater you are buying, giving it to you for free, the knowledge of this huge power over men, the hint of rottenness this could ripen into, the taste of danger.
Summer is the sun hot on the back of your neck, that first kiss, feeling the hand of the boy next door under your shirt while this strange heat grows. It is the icy plunge into the spring that takes your breath away, the dash of cold reality in your face when he leaves, off with some other girl, leaving you freezing and alone.
Summer is the smell of coconut suntan oil, fruity, funny, your best friend bouncing on the bed, face red with laughter. Summer is the smoky smell of garbage burning in a barrel in the backyard, acrid and stinging in your nostrils, the girls down the road calling you tramp and weirdo and freak.
Summer is the pungent aroma of horse, strong and sharp, freedom, driving down the highway, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. It is the tight, crackly feeling of sunburned skin, your parents yelling about curfew and responsibility and clean up your room.
Summer is the gritty beachsand under your feet, the locker combination you can never get right, the class you are always late for. It is the blacktop burning the soles of your feet, making you run and run, your grandmother dying, the last months in a hospital bed and you can never get away from the knowledge, from the burning pain.
Summer is birdsong, beautiful, perfect, the strength you find within yourself, the awareness of who you are, and who you are becoming.
Summer is eternally youthful, energetic. Summer is the pangs of adulthood, the transition from one stage to another. Summer is forever.