I miss taking long walks with you. Peanut butter banana sandwiches breakfasts and and marshmallow smoothies. Cocoa butter morning skin and happy pink pig stories and sleepy eyes and toothpaste on shirtfronts. Shorts and slippers and sunshine so shiny we have to go back in and dress for the weather. Graffiti satchels torn denim bali-esque braids unravelling, I could pick you out from a crowd at a thousand paces and across the thousand miles you could send your love. I'd walk to france with you and we'd stare too long too hard at the city of beautiful rouges. My hair will still be tangled and soft and coppery no matter how much you comb it cause its name is bob and it will contradict you. Dusk bougainvillea is a pretty shade of pink like the sky and the lights on the water beckon. It's cold gloomy damp enough to be england and you laugh at my alien accent. The sky seems smaller when the moon's out and you point out it's not the only pretty light or girl out tonight and your smile gleams in the lanternlight. I'd walk with you anywhere, even into the dark.
