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Some of it's real. Some of it's not. I hate the title. The end.
"Summer in the city, I get lonely lonely lonely..." - Regina Spektor
-Electricity-
Remember the night I slept in
only your black T-shirt, and you
whispered I was beautiful
while I pretended to be sleeping?
Remember the time you made me so nervous
I bit my lip so hard
I tasted blood? You used to
tease me and ask if I had done it
again, like you detected that
faint rust taste in my mouth.
Or in the beginning, when you
played with my sister's lucky bracelet
and I whispered, "It must have worked,
here you are."
You thought I was cute,
embarrassed, with my cheeks all red.
Remember summer, and
sitting on my front porch like
old lovebirds, holding onto
one another like you were ready
to go off to war ("I'd steal you away
before they could ever
put a gun in your hands" wink and
the way you breathed that
you didn't want to leave me?
Remember denting the hood
of my mother's car as we laid down
together for the first time,
quiet as we absorbed our new hopes.
I remember the first time you
kissed me, and I was shocked by
how simple it was to be wanted,
to lose myself in the damp softness
you offered with no production.
"Darlin'", let's go back to your house,
and sit barefoot on that roof again:
this time I'll rub the right wires
together, we'll really get things cooking.
 Tak-Jak · Wed Aug 02, 2006 @ 07:31pm · 5 Comments |
