the sand sifted between us. that summer we felt like we were painters. i held onto the string when the kite slammed up against the bellies of the clouds.
we could have been dreamers. your arm fell on my hair. my body fell into yours.
make me feel again.
i don't know how to dance. i don't know how the world makes me so sad, all of the loud, cluttered mess that stabs at my side. i don't know how to pick you up and swing you like a leaf on a branch in september about to fall but it never does.
it just hangs on.
make me hang from you.
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