mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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dots, dashes, and empty spaces

What? The glasses before bed and fluffy night hair?
The locked wooden box you made in highschool? The crate of old sports equipment we sold to "Goldstein" on a dusky, warm Wednesday?
And do you remember sucking my lower lip until it bled?

I kiss the moonbeams that leak into my bedroom. I tell my own future to guarantee sweet dreams. You were the one who told me my favorite joke and nicknamed me after a character from "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues."

One touch. I know that that's all it would take. One gentle touch, my hand brushing your hand as we walked side by side, and the memories of wet grass and foggy windows and binary love notes would all come flooding back.

2:04 a.m. - 2004-09-23

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