Your Most Transcendent Ice Cream Experience

It is not quite evening in the early days of summer & your bare thighs are on my mother’s deck furniture. You tell me how conventional wisdom has steered you wrong and how sunburns remind you of your parents’ divorce  & I think about the night I took you out for ice cream and later that night when your lips touched each of my bones. Your lips were blue dye #2 you said you were a child & we knew that to be your first lie. We watched Alanis Morissette play harmonica on YouTube and got stoned in my bedroom & I thought about that time Dan and I sat against the bathroom building at Seven Presidents across from the Lighthouse with soft serve on our chins & talked about his mental health but we didn’t talk about that time we did coke and made out I got bored and blacked out at Asbury Pride & you offered me ice cream. You drove us to a supermarket parking lot where we waited out the rain & I misinterpreted the proceeding rainbow to mean gay but really it’s the reflection, refraction, and dispersion of light through a million water drops hovering in the atmosphere and can only be seen at a 42° angle away from the light source & I looked at you and your fingers were sticky from the ice cream & the sun was in my eyes.

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