you remind me of lilac skies, mid-july, the tastes of chlorine and fireworks fresh on our tongues. we'd run through the water and through the grass, the skies more purple than your favorite tee shirt. and though we never quite caught the horizon, we came pretty damn close.
you laugh like that catchy tune on the static radio, you know, the one with the little melody that sounds like falling rain on an early tuesday. your eyes are greener than the algea in my swimming pool at the end of august, before the leaves mix with the chlorine and the world changes to autumn.
i'm not sure if you've ever been told that your lips taste like mangoes, but i'd like you to know. they're pink, so goddamn pink that it drives everyone in this tiny town so crazy. you're the reason for all of our insanity, those lips of yours that curve into smiles and frowns, not all the way though. a crooked smile and straight teeth, off center a bit to the right. your lips are cages that hide away those words, you barely speak, but i love it when you dare to.
- IN WHICH I WROTE THIS A LONG TIME
AGO
[ a little less than a picture perfect year ago]
