we're sitting in an empty kfc,
and the rain is beating a pitter-pattering rhythm of racing hearts and cozy comfort,
and we're discussing old rock music,
sliding a twenty dollar bill back and forth across the table,
and we race through the rain,
backpacks on our heads,
and it's icy cold and it's soaking wet,
but our hands are locked tight together and that's all that really matters.
