i
traced
your every word
with mauve colored pencils

although they are erased
i see lines of faded purple
hide some of the most
beautiful things i've
ever heard.

we passed the beams of
the lighthouse at around 3am.

we pulled over on sam simeon road,
smoke a cigarette as we sang
tiny dancer.

i told you about my first memory.
you tell me about yours.
then exchange stories about
the songs we put on our mixes.

arriving at sunrise,
we slumber until the gates open for us.



i died that weekend,
then woke up
with elation
that i had
just discovered
what it felt like to be loved.






th
at
's
w
h
at
imeant.