HONEY, I THINK YOU'RE TAME
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we keep the windows down to remind ourselves that the wind outside isn't out to chap our lips and bite our cheeks, it's blankets and bathwater weather. it being summer, i'm craving a tattoo, fiercely. i want the beach, now. i almost forgot i used to drag my feet everywhere.
stoned and humming some tune methodically, we started off summer early. i got lost in a maze of a book about graffiti. they call it street art and i call it amazing. matthew and travis kept calling my name around the store without me noticing. i kept writing mementos on my wrists amongst the latin phrases i've been considering, promptly forgetting them until days later when i turn to his open face and say, "lets sneak out every night and spraypaint inspirations."
when i did find them, they were listening to a girl who sounded like cupcakes and fireworks. we headed off to the park where we played on the swings like we were four all over again. we laid under our weeping willow tree and made pictures out of our stars. i traced a heart six times my width without realizing what i was doing and said, "i've left my mark." i kept reaching for whichever bone fell into my palms first, tracing his spine a million times more than i should have, but him never minding. and this is why we work -- right down to the "let's be bonnie and clyde, okay? only, we'll make it in the end" moments.
he took me to see the pixies and each song was like christmas morning all over again.
we keep the windows down to remind ourselves that the wind outside isn't out to chap our lips and bite our cheeks, it's blankets and bathwater weather. it being summer, i'm craving a tattoo, fiercely. i want the beach, now. i almost forgot i used to drag my feet everywhere.
stoned and humming some tune methodically, we started off summer early. i got lost in a maze of a book about graffiti. they call it street art and i call it amazing. matthew and travis kept calling my name around the store without me noticing. i kept writing mementos on my wrists amongst the latin phrases i've been considering, promptly forgetting them until days later when i turn to his open face and say, "lets sneak out every night and spraypaint inspirations."
when i did find them, they were listening to a girl who sounded like cupcakes and fireworks. we headed off to the park where we played on the swings like we were four all over again. we laid under our weeping willow tree and made pictures out of our stars. i traced a heart six times my width without realizing what i was doing and said, "i've left my mark." i kept reaching for whichever bone fell into my palms first, tracing his spine a million times more than i should have, but him never minding. and this is why we work -- right down to the "let's be bonnie and clyde, okay? only, we'll make it in the end" moments.
he took me to see the pixies and each song was like christmas morning all over again.