green pants & and rem bootleg. gigantic smile and a cafe job. disc go round carry over. bandanas in the hair. grey tshirts.
a peaceful driveway.
almost flat & warm, still. feeling the earth move. kissing in a tight sunken living room, by a sleeping dog. and staying up all night until the cool morning air breathed out from over the swimming pool. a water bed. sleeping together. and every night driving home.
84 ford tempo. blue-grey. that freeway ending with the cool cool air from a nearby golf course. letting fingers touch the wind. there was the macaroni grill & a waiter who looked like conan. i had one of those tiny polaroid camras with the sticky film(or not). mischief behind the counter & dancing with glitter at the blues.
being backstage. being stuck in a parking garage. stuck with talking about breaking up(i think).
college in reno & freedom. anger & confusion.
mostly hurt. enough about that.
because i always go back to the driveway.
yes there was mischief when almost saying goodbye. on your porch no less. and i had how to...
before i should have. (yet had & have still)
always.go.back.to.that.driveway.
pink moon belongs there for me.
nowhere else.
it's this heatwave that reminds me.
glisten memory.