south of north

this summer peach,
all fuzz
and pink
in her new shoes,
her new dress
a smile
akin to a smirk,
something she
knows or thinks
of you,
you guess.
you hear the Carolina
in her voice,
in the lilt
of lips
as the words
spill out, soft
and sultry.
she's the pale
blue ceiling
on the wide front
porch, somewhere
south of your north.