my tummy is full from my sticky rice with egg custard and my fingers are sticky from the dumplings.
i like when all the colors come together and i remember the day i fell in like with you.
b/c we were standing near a fire. i kept rubbing my hands together and blowing warm breath inside the cup they formed while you were out and about and around and my eyes kept wandering searching for your face among the other faces flickering with flames and the moon and the bedroom light switched on inside. and the conversations i had were only half ass b/c i was thinking of you. it smelled like camp and my clothes did later. the smoke followed. and i made you laugh so hard you spit your beer out on the ground. my lips almost touched the lobe of your ear as i whispered my story and i could feel your hair brush against my cheek and i couldn't stop thinking about the way your face looked pulled up in a smile and what your eyes meant to me and how it felt when you looked at me like everything else blurred around and made me feel as if i were floating and something inside me was trying to get out and flutter away. it was warm like holding a cup of cocoa and i wanted you to know later when we were inside and i pretended to study but ended up touching you instead. while you were on the phone and your socks were off. and it was innocent in a loaded way. in a marcellus wallace way. i just wanted you to know.