But smile.

You smile
and I know your blue lips would taste of raspberry slushies
and sneaked licks of lollipops.
We dance together on shaved ice,
performing our own
pas de deux
where I end up on the floor a lot
and you laugh with me as my knees get wet,
then slip
into the the crowd of uncanny faces
who wonder
why this girl would sit
alone and shiver,
but smile.