the sound of the wind through palm leaves
I miss shooting the breeze
and you're the only one who fits
with all the jagged bits of my everything
California sunsets are the kind that encompass me
I don't mind the sort of beauty that's seen
I'm going where the sun touches everything
but I'd rather be here where beauty seeps in
where I can imagine more than sunlight on my skin
I've got a window seat and a broken window screen
and I can hear the leaves even when the window's closed