Summer tastes like the humid air
on the sunburned face of the boy you just met.
The two of you chasing after an ice cream truck,
yelling and laughing at the top of your lungs.

Summer tastes like long car rides
with crappy pop music playing in the background,
but you know every word
so you sing as loudly as you can and
grin so wide that you can
feel in your teeth how fast your life is moving.

Summer tastes like small insects biting at your ankles
when you sit on the grass and contemplate
reaching for the clouds that drift above you.
Closing your eyes and dreaming of the sky.