we collapsed on your front lawn

sweat swelling on clasped palms 

and waited for the sky to explode

euphoria is curling between two great loves 

eyes illuminated by new year’s light; 

when you laid me back on a sea of leaves

my insecurities drifted away in waves

your yellow became my favorite color

euphoria is our ribbon laughter 

swirling on the merry-go-round in june;

a dare is not a confession, but 

you kissed me on the lips once

and my lips are still stained with it.

___

Rebecca Bell (she/her) is a Missouri-based writer. Her short story "Lava Games" was published in Journey Literary Magazine and won a prize for fiction in 2017. Her poem "kepler-186f" appears in Savant-Garde's fourth issue. She currently co-hosts a pop culture commentary podcast. Find her on Twitter @belkastle.