Monday, August 6, 2012

As promised

For the boy who used to follow his mother around the house playing guitar with his hands and harmonica with his mouth.

I'd travel the US with you. I'd entertain your Keroac fantasies and help to make it as romantically nostalgic as you wished. We'd walk hand in hand and catch trains together. You could skate and I'd have a bike. We would have an old mustang or cadillac for a bit but ditch it when we decided to hitch across to the next state. We'd both have milky white skin despite being in the sun all the time and we'd make love in long grass. And we'd stay at friend's houses. You know so many people. And we'd sleep on their spare pull out lounges and hug all the time. You'd sketch and I'd swim and you'd paint and I'd write and keep a collage track of what we'd done together. We'd go to San Francisco. We'd always run late because you refuse to rush and I don't like to rush you. But we'd always get there eventually. We'd drink lots of water in the day and wine or whiskey in the night and I wouldn't get angry from the whiskey because we'd be together and you would dance with me or make me laugh. We'd go to spiritual landscapes in California and local bands in Texas and drink beer. We'd always make time for breakfast. And we would always walk hand in hand. We are the peaceful people. 
You'd meet up with the band to tour and I would come and sit in the back of the car, sequinning costumes to wear to the gigs. Because every band needs a Penny Lane. And while you practiced I would dance. I would dance in hotel rooms and quiet venue's stages and when I'd get a show you would come and watch me and love me from the audience and it would bring you happiness.We would write music together in bus shelters and I'd write the words and you would make the tune and we would spend nights drunkenly playing alone, together. We would be creating together and I would put glitter on your face. And we would bring each other peace and joy.

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