(no subject)
I want our initials to fall together in reverse alphabetical order, in the kind of sixty part harmony that violins and oboes know so well (always a little flat but tuning down ruins us both). We are so animated when we talk about the acoustic version of electric love. Quiet words in a louder context (and tambourines). We should balance quarters on the backs of our hands to practice perfect piano posture, just in case we ever get there. To the point that I no longer want to sleep for so long because we could just stare at our hands and trace what we've always meant to say on the walls. To the point that I'd get up to memorize the front page stories and recite it all back to you like it was old news. I say this with an accent and democratic slang, propaganda stunned by ampersands (& I, & ever, & maybe they will fall together eventually) and the vulgarity of he said/she saids like I owe you for more than you know/I remember everything you say.
cerrado a llave.