04.30.05

warm concrete, bare feet

The sun had come out just for us. I hadn�t noticed, spinning as I do, in my little room. In there it was always the some light blue light and the same measured air flowing across me. The same carpet that lost its spring years ago, back before those paint stains.
But anyway, I had stepped into that yellow light and felt, under me, the rough warm concrete against my bare feet as I ran to you. I wanted to tell you, how delicious it was, how I should go just like that and you and I could run over the asphalt together, all the way down to the shore.
I felt silly and didn�t say anything, and got my shoes and my purse and my kisses

shi-ou-sama at 5:11 p.m.

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