I stopped wearing shoes the day I got off the plane and my soles are black and my legs are still adjusting to being completely grounded. I'm still adjusting to being completely grounded. It's like we're starting all over again. Nobody noticed me standing barefoot at the baggage carousel, just like nobody noticed you in your sunglasses, arms spread wide for a hug. Nobody (or everybody?) looked our way when we kissed. You said you didn't check anything, so we walked out into the glaring sun and it was like January never happened, like we were just two kids learning about each other.
You liked my pink toenails and laughed when I put in some Beatles, but 'anything's better than NPR' according to you. We put the top down and I was speeding and we were singing (screaming) along... now you're in the shower, and I can still hear you singing.
Come back to me, and lie with me. Let me be yours again.
Last night we watched some shitty movie and stayed up to watch a rerun of some show I had never heard of before and then we slept together and I'm really sorry about hitting your face trying to reach my phone. No, really. I had no idea that would happen.
& thanks for making me breakfast, and sorry for being such a bitch this morning, but thanks for making me laugh.
If I weren't already in love with you, I would be falling hard.