To Donna in Summer. Before the bell, the F grade. Dawn can set, then rise. She can warm her shoulders. Assure her wedding rings two. Assuage her yellow eyes Without tears, gas, or lighting her husband’s cigar to be Or maybe they are not Warm already held. After all why wouldn’t they be? As long as Donna is there in Summer. Smiling it with burns. Real ones. In shade and shades. Real ones. For me first. Then the coast is clear again. Postea Graduation. The real ones. Regalia, c