dragonflies that speak their native tongue, and bears that hesitate.
swoon under the chiseled sun,
and dive into lavender fields.
i want to collage the things i love and hate and everything else.
june days never fail.
stifled laughter or stifled tears will always fill the air.
creep with me through the garage, and under the stars.
you are what i need on a warm night.
beads like an ocean on the table,
and how we connect with the color of the sky.
and how we all talk about our eyes.
it’s justified to want to lay down in the basement.
i’ve never been to the attic,
but i know you have.
i remember you thought you saw a ghost.
a mix of miss serpentine and cracking tiles.
these tights are threads just dying to rip.
clasp your hands together,
you cannot forget the computer.
it’s a feeling of immobility in the purple mist.
flawless childhood in our back pockets.
i hope the pine tree still stands tall, and the storm comforts it.
and my friends are my storm.
and my friends are the good, ringing in my ears.