Sweet Rose Lemonade

Sweet rose lemonade

stings my throat, and I pucker

my lips to catch every kiss.

The winsome pink drink

has a tart name and I taste you

or the girl-

my third year of college.

Our mouths hum each other’s heartbeats

with door wide open

and boys’ eyes rush over us 

faster than our feet.

Sexuality bloom from gentle pink cheeks,

and I press my lips against the cool glass;

slowly drink down my sweet pink lemonade.


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