Let history repeat itself in between your fingers.
As far as we're concerned, cotton never killed anybody. Right?
Sun glinting peach fuzz on your arms reveals how movies were made.
Attic windows cracked open with bare feet dangling flower stems - now I get how babies were made.

Hey, hello, stop by whenever you want. They say I'm worth the drive. They also say the fun is in the journey.
Most boys prefer one or the other.

Your arms are liquid. You are a jungle.
Let me get tangled up in your heartstrings and bathe naked in Denial.
Cirrus clouds fly in my ears and as soon as lips meet my forehead I'm out the door.

When we die, there won't be any more candlelight s'mores. This is what I've been meaning to tell you.