lacking hours of sleep, we walk in the sunshine, taking photos, talking girly language. we always find time to meet - touching velvet jackets, complimenting new dresses, walking barefoot when heels get overwhelming. they call us sex and the city girls, a younger version. i like it as much as i like getting into intellectual debates. but, thats not the point. not now.
i let the breeze play with my sweaty hair. someone makes a wish for all weekends to be this long. i let this idea go thinking that all weve done was party - lots of dancing, drinking and sobering up, talking to the strangers, being the craziest group every place we entered, attracting all the attention. breakfast after sunrise - after all bars close - and the excitement from being together like this would wear out - so i let the idea of long weekends go.
m. kisses my hair, then my forehead. it is so different than the passion of the last night. i let the idea of possible dating go.
the after-rain breeze plays with my hair, dries his forehead. i let all these ideas go, say bye to my sex-and-the-city co-stars, and head home to get some good amount of sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment