A few days of rain it starts getting
to me. Im from the land of sunshine, oranges, coconut trees. my skin has a warm glow. things like hot pink yard flamingos and speedo swimwear amuse me. the rain is fun and even romantic but the three weekends in a row- it's not amusing. read books, write, watch movies these are rain things and good things but i end up making music mixes and folding clothes. I like methodical work. The rain beating against the window glass as i push my swifter broom across the room in perfect rows. im cleaning wood floors and mediating at the same time.
I need to find my mood or passion or muse. I like it when you say hi. when you write me notes. I miss you too. i miss you too. I could say it all day long. your little notes so infrequent are like plugging me into a battery charger. Its a fix. a small fix in the world. things tilt. do they for you too? how does it feel when i set you straight?. i miss you too. here's what i think about. what if someday we can break out. there is this magic spell that stops time and only you and i are able move. We meet somewhere and we open doors and we lay in bed. and i think if i could just see, just feel my dark skin on on your pale, on your snowy skin. I believe we can be each others fix. we connect. we dont have to say a word. just be still, just be close. just charge me full of your electric. press play. press play. she misses me.
There isnt an app for that. for you. this feeling. there isnt a place to plug in. and i know we should be happy where we are. and i am and when the rain doesn't fall or it isnt dark or im not half drunk, or that song isnt playing. im fine. when i dont think to much or start writing. i have this habit. i have this habit of repeating myself. i miss you too.the rain stops, time stands still.
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