under your toes there's crushed dandelions, and soft, wet grass. the storm clouds swirl, and your pink drink fizzes near my hip.
you're lying flat on your back, next to my side. extended, lithe, pasty skin, and wearing your favorite sunglasses.
it's not sunny, but 'it's too bright.' you point at the glasses sliding on your nose, nails white, unlike the clouds in the sky.
you giggle, hoist yourself up, and curl in. pretzel-like, wrapped up, positioned right beside me.
your cat stares at us from the inside, and i could start to wonder what that must feel like, but you're humming a song i faintly recognize.
i lift the fizzy drink to my lips, and sip.
a twisted grin forms on your lips. 'you always take what isn't yours, princess.' maybe you're wrong though. maybe i never take enough.
you took a photo of me a while ago, under a willow tree, i'm all dimples and orange light leaks.
a fragment of who i want to be captured by you.
you took that photo from me. for a fact, it's lost in a pile, in your shoebox, of what you miss or what you never want to see.
let me get this straight: i never liked him, i loved you.
those iced matcha lattes, scattered laughter, angry outbursts followed by oceans poseidon could not fathom.
i don't hold grudges, but you do. i'll never get you back, because someone else has filled in your softer pieces.
filled in places where i carelessly splattered paint, in hopes you could pick out colors and make something beautiful.
i can almost hear your voice, 'god, she was a mess. all i have left is a broken heart.'
i might write about you forever, i might give up, it's pointless to romanticize sunglasses and your pointed remarks.
i'll stop.
just know, i think about that day a lot. your cat watching, your band t shirt, the lime green vans, fizzy drink at my hip, scattered storms.
or the time you drew a smiley face on a sandwich with mustard, or when we stole your dad's whiskey, and i finally melted into your mouth.
and yes, now, i'll officially say, i took too much.
goodbye, my sweetest love.
