just hearing her azure sadness
adhered paddles to my chest
and i suppose i’m to blame
for staring at its shadow

ribbons fray
and disintegrate
acid rain’s fashion
down to the quick
her fingers dilate
colder volume

remember those nights
wallowing over the piano
when indulging had meaning
before it became thee habitual?

and i don’t mind

i’ve proven brakes
squeaky, yes

as she goes under
motor oil gives her
a midnight muse
so slippery

we listen to m83 and cry
because we’re 17 in 2012
pouring virginal curiosity
but we wear the skin
of mid-thirties

we light bottle rockets and cower
pull our pants down to show the lace
we want you to feel some-thing strange
though, we act surprised when you speak

sitting on the hood of a van
we kept saying, “some day…”
and whispering, “i wonder…”
and here we are, stashed
no pacific ocean  in sight
beach house deserted
spray painted graffiti
hiding the dream
in the wells of
our minds

if you listen closely
you can hear the wind
whistling through her hair
fuchsia tights dangling over
some blown out window sill

some day
i’ll wonder
once more

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