Watermelon Beer

She sits under a tree the shape of a stick figure stretching the morning off. When I look at her hips, I think watermelon beer. She wears her jeans down to her toes. I dip a fry into my Frosty and watch her dance. I eat my dessert with dinner because she never stops me from practicing our future inside her. She falls in love with me because I ask her to. I say It’s worth knowing who’s going to whisper your name when everyone else is screaming. She rolls loose change out of my mouth. We pay the block’s parking meters for months.