Under the blue sky, sweat and smiles are shining,
Ice cream tastes the best this time of year.
It’s my third summer since coming here,
And once again, it’s finally here.
During class, you fan yourself with a plastic sheet,
Your bored side profile, your bangs stuck to your skin.
This might be the last summer
I get to secretly glance at you like that.
The eraser we tore in half,
The silly notes we wrote badmouthing the teacher,
Laughing over scraps of notebook paper—
Those sparkling summers with you.