every time I go onto my balcony

bare feet on dusty cement

and look down the street

towards the subway

towards the market

towards the road straight to the beach

the air gets a little warmer

and I can feel the spring preparing,

about to pass me by
_
and I hope I’ll make it out in time to buy a new sundress

and a pair of sandals

because summer somehow always catches me by surprise

and by the time I’ve thought to embrace the way humidity sits on skin

there’s a bite in the air and it’s gone again
_
I keep dreaming of ways to catch it
like a firefly in a jar
(only temporary)
so I can see it up close
so I can remember to notice the sweat on the back of my neck
and the proof it serves
that I was alive that day
so I can skip down sidewalks
so I can lie in the park
so I can chill another bottle of wine
so I can kiss and kiss and kiss
so I can forget to put on sunscreen
so I can walk until my feet ache
so I can embrace the way my hair frizzes from my scalp like a crown
so I can fall in love in ways I’m not sure I deserve
so I can remember to admire the way the fire hydrant down the street
(somehow always breaking open)
washes away cigarette butts and receipts and regrets
and makes a babbling brook on Bushwick streets
just until the repairman comes on Monday
just until I can bring myself to open the jar and let it go
and whisper well wishes into the first breeze of autumn

my heart is too big for this bedroom,