tents and beer
smokes and pretzels
reading tarantula
and drawing blobs for faces
not sleeping...
because we’re not supposed to
because we miss each other.
texting quietly
how strange
yet lovely
five feet from each other
now all we need is Christmas lights and faked
and sweating, because that’s the best
feels so normal to be walking together
by the library
on our hill
in the mountain of syrup
watching the smoke inside and out
...wish we were back
miss you terribly.
(but I’m coming now!!)
