and that might be the worst short story line ever (i.m still attached to //and then the doorbell rang.//) because we slept the same way, tangled legs in hotel room sheets.

but the morning displaces everything. he.s not remembered but she has, last night even, with cell phone messages miles long (that i pretend not to have heard.)

we salsa danced across state lines and everyone ate my cake and we laughed (holy canoli!). i.ve got scars to show up and down my body, my watermark. they are

counting the minutes while we unplugged the clock:

goodnight city. hello suburbs. the content vision /tinysighs/. of kissing sixteen goodbye, a strange feeling we agree.

everything, you.ve got to hold onto, everything. but i.m happy to share my footprints with the ocean and my red balloon with the sky.


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