[104 words]
Ice Cream
you looked at me like it was the hottest day of the year and i was a dish of ice cream
you knew you shouldn’t what a mess we could make
but god you wanted me and i was already beginning to melt in front of you
Porch
in the season of dandelion fluff you kissed me on a covered porch
our lips were young but our hearts already tired
you tasted like the sun
Audacity
there is too much moonlight without you
the audacity of night to continue unbearable silver silence
when you are not warm and alive next to me commenting on the stars
K Spicka is a recovering English major living and writing in Omaha, NE. They have one published poetry collection, “blue hydrangea morning” and have been featured in “The Fourth River” journal and “Thimble Literary Magazine”. Their unpublished work can be found on sticky notes, in half-full notebooks, and in the notes app of their cell phone.
