well, i want to take pictures of the curves of you face and neck. sexiness in skin so creamy the tongue feels tempted. desire in simplicity and i want to sleep with you.
wooden cedar bench overlooking the lake shining two o'clock sparkles. the leaves glow greener with the late autumn sun and i long to dip my feet in the water before the wind grows arctic and jack frost plays on the windows before we rise in the morning.
chilled and pumpkin-y cheesecake. british comedies and freshly washed hair. comfort lullaby and bed is soft.
this weekend.
they kept me out too late with reubens and free baskin robbin pints. so maybe i didn't call all the new faces but i did get to know all the old ones better. and the music in our car is the soundtrack of life b/c when i turn fifty i'll remember how pervy and how philosophical we could be. ignore me dancing to bad nineties pop but i know you'll do it when i'm around later on.
when i get engaged, i'm registering for a trampoline.
we had one of those moments, mom and me, where we realize this is the last time i'll be living here and helping out. ever since our four hour father of the bride marathon, she's been getting a little misty eyed. my last time to hang christmas ornaments on the fake pine tree in my house but not the last time in my home.
geometric and soft watercolor of sweaters, blue jeans and profiles. golden haired boy and lips ready to kiss. and his dark cinnamon curly hair matches the curl in his smile. and urban record store with tons of vinyl and indie works behind the counter. the windows overlook asphalt and the college scene that (hopefully) i'll be a part of next year. not that i don't already listen to turntable music on the worn in couches or fan away the cigarette smoke while under the colored lights and while sitting on a medal rocking loveseat. gorgeous.