Petals in the Heat

By Carrie Hunter

Copyright ©2026

Your skin was the first dawn

I ever dared to touch—

warm as the hush before cicadas sing,

gold spilling over the edges of June.

We met where the air

tasted of ripe peaches and salt,

and your laughter opened

like a hibiscus at noon—

reckless, red,

drinking the sun without shame.

I traced the curve of your shoulder

as if it were a stem

leading me deeper into bloom;

the wind tangled your hair

like wild vines,

and I breathed in the green of you,

the sweet pollen of your sighs.

Every kiss was a petal falling—

soft, inevitable,

until the whole flower trembled

in my hands.

And when the night came,

thick with heat and jasmine,

we lay in the dark garden of each other,

roots entwined,

knowing summer would end,

but still opening,

still burning,

still alive in the fever of the sun.