he sings along to saturday playlists in the front seat of my car, prodding his fingers through my mind, and now cinnamon is stuck to his fingertips and he can't wipe it away. he says my hair smells like sweet peaches and april showers when he brushes it with his pearl teeth.
he kisses my eyelids and i can no longer see the blue summer sky.
he kisses my palms and i can no longer feel the warm ocean waves.
i want nothing more but to hear pretty latin words being spoken against my skin while the sun is setting and the last rays of light leak through the windows.
