sitting on your stoop smoking a cigarette at 5:30 in the morning and the sun peaking over and starting to block out the orange of th pen. in all our inexperience we had a lifetime in a night or as I'd rather think, we gave the night life.
mud puddle humble in a choir of buzzing street lights. both talk vonnegutt sounds of rain. rent a tent rent a tent rent a tent. we stomp the park and laugh at the slurping and squishing sounds that four soaked all stars make in the grass. like angels farting or some other heavenly bowel movement.
and at your home, the living room is silent. littered with broken toys.
you take me to your room.
we lay together. we are both soaked from rain and you are shivering from the AC blowing hard. turn it off. lay back down. your hands are cold but i let you anyway. you nuzzle your nose in my neck and rub my chest. i can smell you, your hair, it's beautiful. not a moment you tell me we smell like wet dog.
the only time i have ever been enthralled and not felt entrapped.
you jump up and spray some foofoo shit on me and then put on the fugees. the score.
kick both our black back packs to the door and come back to me with soft hands like bringing me to life. they are warm this time. if only to death these hands would carry me then it would not be so scary.
with your toes try to take off my chucks and it ain't gonna happen. they are soaked. double knot low top. i chuckle to myself a bit. tied up in you and your wit. sharp tongued.
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