St George

A 4 hour drive doesn’t sound so bad  
But we’re two young kids who can’t afford the gas  
And I try to write you letters but I don’t know what to say  
Just circling, hoping you’ll come up through the page  
 
Maybe I wish we had more photographs  
Like of when we chased the rain at your mom & dad’s  
Or of the morning light in your tired eyes  
When you lean down to kiss me in the early thrift store lines
 
When I drive, I drown in the pink streaked skies
But it feels unsaturated and I ask myself why  
I’ve got the smell of cigarettes on my mind  
And your coconut deodorant, and the beer we shared that night  
 
It’s become a ritual using your lighter  
I display your post card against my typewriter  
Your blue plaid boxers have become my bed attire
In case you wake up, I pull all nighters  
 
I wanted to watch the Perseids this time together  
I forgot you’d have moved, and plus the shitty weather  
Do you have the same occurring dreams where these things finally happen?  
Or do i romanticize everything out of old habit?  
 
Well I’m not joking when I say you’re pretty  
You’ve got the soul of small country but the spirit of big city  
And my mom told me you have kind eyes  
I don’t often admit but this time she’s just right  
 
But your eyes also beg and light up with hopes
To kiss down my neck while you remove our clothes  
And your eyes roll around when I tell bad jokes  
And I’ll bet when they cry, the life in them grows
 
When I’m on my knees they meet with mine
Or atleast they try but I get too shy  
After years they’ve finally got me to say hi
I’m still waiting for them to teach me how to say goodbye  
 
Or ‘til next time’
Or ‘I know we’ll be fine”  
Because face it, you’re mine  
Atleast you were in July  
 
I live my present through the good moments passed
And the past was made up of future hopes we both had
And in such a short life span,  
Maybe it doesn’t matter how little we have
 
Maybe A 4 hour drive doesn’t sound so bad