Z) Summer of Drugs

Roll 'em easy &;
we can summon up
an ancient warrior,
with warm buffalo blood
on his cheeks
who used sticks
to make fire
when he lived here
in these same
lightless lime caves.

The summer of drugs.
Green glass,
bitter cubes.
Innocence irrevocably lost
in us.

You left me for a strawberry
- a tiny square of
lickable wallpaper.

The man from the caves
he say 'yes'
flickering with bad reception in the flames.

Tempted like Eve,
the fruit made your head fizzy.
Celebrating nothing special
and dancing in the grass with the
other weirdos.

We parted during the summer of drugs,
and I had no idea why you had done it.