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Aug 2017
I saw you there, I kept the image in my mind, to feed my despair,
And your hair...
The freckles on your shoulders.
Your smell, your legs, like there were noplace and someplace, bulky and warm like Christmas at the bottom of life where everything was *****.

I carried my heart in yours.
You were the rainy-sun-danse, a novelty in a stormy-wood-wroten-backwoods. Indiana suburban mythology dictated of such a fair maiden, one born of wild disparity, from the family of spiritual cynics. I've come to admire you, that much I know. A mouth divided like Africa, arbitrarily and in a fit of greed, like a hispanic german jew, flouting her sensuality, folded harmony, sweet, messy, youthful, rude, a symbol.

You're my everything and I don't know why, two days gone and I was in so much pain, I figured nothing out.
If I were really inlove with you, you'd be inlove too.
And I love you,
therefore you love me too.
Israel Baker
Written by
Israel Baker  18/M/Indianapolis, IN
(18/M/Indianapolis, IN)   
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