You and I and these beachy vibes.
Swaying like the palm trees in the wind.
The California breeze blowing through our hair as we stay here perfectly still. We build barriers from sand and shells, to protect this moment from all the stares.

you protect it
with swords for hands you hold your arms wide
closing quickly
around its body
because you are still unsure
and a bit uneasy
of what your doing
peach hands crumple into yours
and it skips with you to the garden
and whistles
'oh what a beautiful morning'
and there you watch the foxes play
and the dragon flies dance to rainbow droplets of squirting water
out of the goldfish filled fountain
and you are surrounded by topiary
and blood roses
kissing each other
like salt and pepper
granules
the roses
are covered in aphids
there petals drip like blood onto the
rain stained earth
the ladybugs were too lady like to **** all the pests
this year
so they turned their heels
and flew away on each other's backs
and the
topiary seems to stand on its tippy toes
as if it were a child trying to
look over the counter to
see the sunny side to things
and the roses are rebelling against the earth and growing towards the sun
that has shriveled to the size of a california golden raisin.

If 8 means never to be told
And 9 *******
My barbaric Yawp as I grow old
Californiacation
Secrets are a special thing
Put mine in a letter
She said private, but she shared
Good. Things just might get better

            Letterman's jacket
       Not Letterman's sweater