let's go somewhere where the grass is green, the trees are leafy, and the scent of caramel lattes tantalizes our taste buds. you can read me random pages from your favorite book and i'll teach you to memorize the eternal digits of pi. we can write songs about changing seasons and the way it feels to walk barefoot in the springtime. and i'll take pictures in my mind. and you'll take pictures with your phone. and we'll argue over how classy black and white is and whether or not indie music even belongs to a genre. you'll try to impress me with your cheesy Popsicle stick jokes, and i'll continue to groan over them until you finally give up and start trying me with riddles instead.
and at night was can top the bridge that spans the highway, and cross our eyes to blur the traffic beneath us. every headlight will become a shooting star, whizzing down Main beneath the city sky.
it sounds like paradise.
but paradise is only fantasy.
which is why you only exist
in my head.
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