LoveCheese. Green. Thumbelina. Clone Wars. Frozen Burritos. Purple.Warm days when we don't have to think.Simply me and you,or you and me,spilling Chinese food in the front seat of my car,with the grass beneath our feetand the sparkle of laughter chasing the butterflies you know I love.And the night at the school-when we climbedup on the roof to watch the stars-our clothesgot so dirty from the raindust and grime,but none of that really mattered, so long as our nosestouched in the softest way,and our fingers wiggled against each other like the sun would never come up.We brought out my tubes of temperaand got a new canvas fromRichards, a big one, and my thirsty brushes,and painted and painted and painteduntil we ran out of canvas and the tubes ran dry. We yellSEX when we see police cars.You tickled my feet until I couldn't breathe-thenwe had Taco Bell again, and I shared my quartersso we could get fake tattoos out of those little red machines.Hair dye from Tar
FightingWe flop in the GREEN pudmuddles.the weather doesn't like it-neither do AUTHORITY:we ate their rules and made them look likeSHInTllating stars and laughedthem across the sky to form Orion's belt.our shoes squeak on slimy disapproval-THEY WILL NOT CONTROL USwe both saw a bunch of little peacock eyes. Are those bitemarks on my journal? Ourblanket fort is still in my living room-the one we watchedThumbelina in last week:you are my wings, love.Mom, we're going to the school musical, not having sex.They're not gonna get us. Draw more tattoos on my arm-thebutterfly, not the rose.You got a dragon, I made it for you.I was looking for you on the wrongside of the street,>CHEESE
TanbarkRainbow marker all over our skinwith tanbark in our socks-the days when we didn't care if our fingers got stickyfrom red popsicles melting on the playgroundnext to our chalk murals of ice cream candywith cherries on top of the mountain:disney movies and dinosaurs and legos,picture books and lunchables and naptimehungry hungry hippos chutes and ladders scrabbletinkertoys, sandboxes, swingsand cartwheels in the grasswith happy meals and checkered blankets inthe family room with macaroni in the shape ofSponge Bob. Hey Arnold and the Wild ThornberriesDragon Tales and Zaboomafoo. Ren & Stimpyand that one picture book with the pancakes and the dog.Born to be fried chicken!I wore overalls and let the boys chase me.