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not entirely sure about this one.
your attention tastes like sunshine,
thats what i remember most
and how pretty you looked with my words
spilled all over you
we never cared much about the mess.
i've been lead to believe there is no place in the summer
for my fingers
but your curls
but now the sun is coming back
and your entwined
with other girls
who i'm sure can't appreciate
the brilliance of your bed sheets
with our names magic markered
on the seams.
there is something so lonely
about my crazy-lady bathrobe
when you're not tugging on the tie.
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