the decembrists make me feel homesick...
I remember driving to your house on sticky summer days after going for an early morning run. Sometimes the door would be unlocked, and I would walk past the piano (which served as a better tabletop for your junior high pictures) and down the hall to your room. Through the half-open door, I would find you still asleep in bed. I'd leave my shoes next to the barbells on your floor (which you always claimed you used), and quietly crawled into bed next to you. Sometimes I would say good morning, and sometimes we would sleep.