Deep in Summer

It is June again, & here I am
letting monsoon soak through the window.

I am steeped in slowness
wanting only to feel ocean spray
on my feet as you walk in front of me.

There are long walks after it rains
& bus rides to the movie theatre.
There is enough time to make crepes.

Here I am, drinking unsweetened black tea
with a hint of elderflower. Holding a book
I’ve read many times before.
Hoping later you will taste the black cherry
ice cream on my tongue.

What am I doing, still craving your flesh
though it is long gone.
I want to feel your breath in my mouth,

hear you say you’ll be here in the morning.
& I will be in the kitchen,
cooking eggs & peeling grapefruit.

Here I am, wearing yellow
so you notice me.

There is little but this small bedroom
where I watch mushrooms cluster
in the damp soil.

Here I am, deep in summer.
Who do I ask to fill up the space.

Mia Aguilera received an MFA from Northern Arizona University. She has been published in Lux, The Normal School Review, and River Teeth's "Beautiful Things" column. She likes to write about dreams.