Monday, April 7, 2014
Marino's Sky Blue
I remember waiting in the sun.
For the ice cream truck. The jingly song.
Two quarters pressed against me,
scotch-taped above my ankle,
under my sock.
I'm waiting for my Sky Blue Italian Ice,
That I will scrape into my mouth with a flat wooden stick.
Now it's later.
Blue skies and the sound of the ice cream truck.
And I'm waiting for you. Mind drifting away.
You're the popsicle.
And I lick you up in the heat.
Our tongues. Our lips. Our sticky smiles.
Everything turns to blue raspberry sweetness.
And you taste sky blue.
*Note: This is a shortened and re-worked version of Summertime Ice Cream