Just a Couple of Kids
after Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey
In the summertime, our skin
glows. You’d say it’s the sun, but I
would call it Road Trip High.
Telephone wires, defunct
desire lining the streets. My baby
sees beauty in it all while I see
beauty in him, reflected
in the mirrors. We are golden,
we are heavenly, we light up
every dead street with our smiles
and our palpable life, life glowing
through the eyes and over-pouring
from the lungs. We breathe
landscape onto blank skylines,
and the moment we step out
of the car, the music starts.
What I’m saying is true: we make
the birds sing.
after Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey
In the summertime, our skin
glows. You’d say it’s the sun, but I
would call it Road Trip High.
Telephone wires, defunct
desire lining the streets. My baby
sees beauty in it all while I see
beauty in him, reflected
in the mirrors. We are golden,
we are heavenly, we light up
every dead street with our smiles
and our palpable life, life glowing
through the eyes and over-pouring
from the lungs. We breathe
landscape onto blank skylines,
and the moment we step out
of the car, the music starts.
What I’m saying is true: we make
the birds sing.
Aleah Dye (she/her) primarily writes poetry, tending towards topics of morbidity, love, social justice, and philosophy. She is dreadfully afraid of imperfection and spiders, in no particular order. She has a one-eyed cat named Ivy and a one-track-minded (food!) cat named Rosebud. Aleah’s superpower is eating a whole bag of Doritos in one sitting—newly discovered. Read her latest work via publications like Ang(st) Zine, mineral lit mag, and Malarkey Books. Follow her @bearsbeetspoet on Twitter.