and
it's a monday, we skipped form,
and,
you're laying on my chest brown hair in my hands as we listen to some song neither of us can understand.
the mirror is all I see as clothes turn into bare skin
and,
your hands are stuck around me as if we were magnets so attracted by sheer powerful force we could never be broken apart.
you took me to the great city, spending the last of our spare change on a stupid sandwich, you take a photo of me mid bite
and,
all of my friends see it, they smile, as they know all I want is someone to love capturing moments as much as i do.
we argue, my voices becomes so loud, the tears even louder as the rumble through the air,
and,
even though you are still bubbling with fury you always make sure I'm okay as I start to struggle to breathe, my inhaler becoming our own treaty of versailles.
the draft becomes public, that weird clip of us making a bad joke to a silly sound with big smiles
and,
your friends laugh with us this time, messaging me how cute we are, doing the same idea with their own partner in crime, but no one them could even compare.
I wanted to watch to ducks as they wander round the ponds on their own little adventures,
and,
we stayed for hours, making up little tales for each of our new feathered friends, so much detail that it soon became dark, but it's fine, you held my hand the entire way home carrying on the tale of Ronnie the duck to make me feel safe.
