Please, Do Not Compare Us to a Summer's Day

This love is as a fear longing still,

The shaking hand that tries to cast a stitch,
You hold out a glass of sunlight to fill,

And pray the sight of gold will make you rich.
But the summer is not a gentle breeze,

And the rough winds do not deplete or tire,
You can still reach my skin beneath the trees,
Then ignite the rest of the world on fire.
Exposed on a canvas you left to dry,

Not even the paint would leave me to run,
You peel apart our masterpiece tonight,

And place the shards of my skin on the sun.
There is no eternal summer to fade,
We bleed through the sky and even in shade.

STEPHANIE MCNAMARA is a student at the University of Louisville and a winner of the Creative Writing Program’s Summer Sonnet competition.