Grass tickles my feet.
There’s a penny on the ground.
I pick it up with my toes.
(The way I would have when I was little.)
I hand the penny to you and tell you today’s going to be lucky.
You call me a dork and touch your lips to mine.
(I always liked how tall I was, you didn’t have to bend over to kiss me.)
I run and tell you to catch me.
When you do we fall to the ground giggling.
We lay there together.
Your hands are so warm on my legs.
(That was one of the first things I noticed about you when we met, how warm your hands were.)
When I wake up you are still asleep and I cannot feel your hand on my leg.
I stare at the wheel chair by the bed.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 9:25 PM UTC
Grass tickles my feet.
There’s a penny on the ground.
I pick it up with my toes.
(The way I would have when I was little.)
I hand the penny to you and tell you today’s going to be lucky.
You call me a dork and touch your lips to mine.
(I always liked how tall I was, you didn’t have to bend over to kiss me.)
I run and tell you to catch me.
When you do we fall to the ground giggling.
We lay there together.
Your hands are so warm on my legs.
(That was one of the first things I noticed about you when we met, how warm your hands were.)
When I wake up you are still asleep and I cannot feel your hand on my leg.
I stare at the wheel chair by the bed.
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