remember things like this. two of us tied.
flowers into our hair but love is
terrifying continent
shifter not to talk about love
in a poem, for fuck’s
sake on the beach those skinny
girls whipping
martinis outta no
where and one of us said Baby
we gone, so off we flew down
the pier it said no
swimming both of us knew
we were going
to we smiled our flowers
floated by //