& also just being 22
AWAY INDEFINITELY
TIDFSI@gmail.com
ASK, Quills (10 of 10), Portraits Of Seventh Heaven, All Of My Little Black Books,

Where You Go

Feather-light girl with all the allure in the world- I hope you are reading this and know it’s about you. If I could spend another evening filling soap dispensers with our contraband booze, or that time we stayed at the bar till light with the doors closed, and I looked at you and you said ‘I Know’, because you did and do. If I could wait outside on that filthy street with those boys to have breakfast. If I could meet you again and have you turn up at my house like some unpredictable angel, I would have had more faith in good things back then. 

Alot: I wish I had slept with someone who taught at my high-school. I think things would have been interesting. I might have kept secrets.

Still on his side, breathing calm and heavy. Lungs takes on a weight in the early morning.. He asked for my dreams so I gave him a list of subject matter. When my eyelids smooth and my face undoes the knots it created with sixteen hours of conversation: I am brash and callous, rude little girl I never was, I paint my nails so they glow green and change, I sleep with him and go to a music festival that I don’t enjoy. I try to find a bathroom but they’re all out in the open or with gaps the width of encyclopedias where the door meets the hinge. They’re filthy or blocked. Trying to fix my makeup but someone keeps on coming into my room. I also go swimming until there is no shore and feel that that’s it. There’s no going home. There is no home to go to, when you’ve lost sight of land, it doesn’t exist anymore.

He doesn’t remember his dreams, he listens to mine and then links them together like festive paper chains to stream across his own eyes. 

He’s still sleeping and last nights silly proud drinks are still showing off. Today we’ll watch the rain arrive and throw our arms out in welcome. He’s still sleeping and I’m still dreaming - In truth, he’s probably too hungover to drive, waiting for weather instead of pursuing its arrival doesn’t hold the same intensity. He’s still sleeping so Thursday is slow but supreme. His reliable skin rubbing against everything that I know.