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He smells of summer
-That gives me peace-
Of summer and of the morning haze.

All the numbers don’t make sense
Then again,
Nothing matters since he smells of summer.

I can imagine the soft, smooth, swooshing sound of the waves
And the warm, white waves of the sand
When he’s orbiting my heart.

He tastes like stars
-That gives me hope-
Of stars and of the vast universe

All the strings might not connect
Then again,
Nothing matters since he tastes like stars.

I can imagine that, when I die, I will become a nebula
It will be as beautiful
I will explode like a piñata
And mend all traces of sadness with confetti!
Then all the hypocrites
And those who are honest
Will be revealed.

I will explode like a piñata
And become a nebula
Because and only
He smells of summer
And tastes like stars.