humiliate the heat Adam Evertz
nothing stands still but he believed in an endless summertime enough for rose gold and peaches, girls whose laughs are like lighters flashing in the dark-Orange, like the leaves will be. In retrospect, the myth was always tainted. August held him between blonde fingertips, shuddering at high noonWhile he was busy fumbling, summer spit up blood and died an ivory death. let the wild-haired girls, and boys with gliding paper airplane laughs, take the narrow pathI’m headed for the corn field 7