fifteen october
ten : forty-eight a.m.

dancing in the front, unafraid. talking to strangers.

you were there. you and your camera and your beautiful everything.

and she tugged on your arm, and you left with her. outside in the rain, the silent, slow-motion, four-fingered wave as you passed me.

i told him about you. about how it's been three years, and you still make me nervous. how you're the only one that can do that. how all i want is to accidentally fall asleep on your couch, to smoke cigarettes with you, ride bikes with you. for you to write me letters when i'm away from here.