The Summer of

The summer of 

Alex Isley’s scattered tunes 

and melodies. Beats as we beat 

hearts and fast feet, linking up in

likewise thoughts and dreams.

The summer of loves heat, 

you wrote to make my soul speak, 

to make my flesh need, to entice my mind 

with fantasies. Scattered tunes

disguised as soaked sheets,

thumping rhythm covered

up as lyrical repeats. 

Ending seemed not as sweet, 

leaving loves regrets 

like yesterday’s beats,

melodies still lingering 

in my head like grief,

you can’t get no relief. 

I guess it’s best to believe

it was never meant to be.

egf