Ode to Beta

Lazy summer afternoons  
Spent on the couch with a book,  
Or the porch,  
Or really anywhere  
You could lay your head on my lap  
So I could play with your hair  
 
Talked about ice cubes  
And margarita mix  
And a kiddie pool  
Lined with salt  
While the fan  
Hardly made a dent  
In the hot, thick air  
 
Windows open in the evening
(except for the rusted, painted over one)  
The candle that smelled like  
Freshly baked cookies  
Sat on the coffee table  
 
Pretended the kool-aid  
Was watermelon wine  
And you were my Monroe  
With your dollar store lipstick,  
Red bra strap peaking out  
From under that white sun dress  
(My personal favorite)  
And low lit eyes  
That promised so much  
 
Traced your tattoo  
Just the way you liked  
Not wanting to think about tomorrow  
Or any other time  
But right then,  
Twirling blonde tendrils  
While the cricket serenade  
And lightning bug show  
Played just for us.