press play.

The water is the most beautiful example of cerulean.  You know, that Crayola color that was always broken and worn down in Elementary school, because it was everyone’s favorite? Why is it that the things best loved end up being the things left used and tired?  Trees here are a color of green that shouldn’t exist without red there to vibrate with.  The chairs around the pool are taken up in twos…. arms thrown haphazardly onto laps and around shoulders, grasping at fingers and playing with sun-and-salt kissed hair.

“Waiting for one more, Miss?”

I’m an outsider here.  The romance is tangible, everyone caught up in the moment that is now.  Even the scavenging birds fly in pairs, as if brought together by their bad habits.  So how did I end up only writing about it?

I like the rain here.  It’s warm and light and makes everything it touches brighter; a lot like you.

Wish you would of been here. 


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