we still believed in hot lemon water in the morning,

still believed in the miracle of breaking out into a dance

anywhere, never quieting down, the rookie optimism

that our best parts would remain the same

no matter where or who we shared them with.

now every summer something like grief tears inside

our bellies, awakes us with a jolt demanding to know

about time’s betrayal, about abandonment,

so we meet after dinner to look for answers, a search

party in hoodies determined to walk through all of july.

when i think about the summer this is all i see:

my girls and i in the dark curled up into a huddle,

arms stacked, a tight circle for the home team.

Francisca Matos is a poet from Lisbon, Portugal. Her work has appeared in Feels zine, GASHER and Profound Experience of Earth. She is currently enrolled in the Creative and Life Writing MA at Goldsmiths, University of London. IG: ccisca