I tell you I don't know what I want,
and imagine being a green ladybug resting in the warmth of the sun on a old pal's denimed shoulders.
I want to get away from here.
Find another piece of grass to rest my hairy legs on
The sun reads my thoughts as I walk to your house.
There was a lot of articles and headlines about your smile.
My cheeks turn yellow when it giggled at the stop motion productions I created about lands far away from here for it's entertainment on the journey there.
Our eyes don't communicate romantic haikus when you let me in, continuing a conversation with yourself about whether or not naming your skateboard gale, your late mom's name, was pretentious and stupid. You figured you'd remember her better this way.
I kiss the moles on your neck and your dad clears the ectoplasm from his throat.
We head to the field by your house and count every leaf and bug that gotten used to the warm grass and dreamt of being elsewhere. maybe the moon.
Lemon candies were always my favorite and I kiss your beet-colored eyelids for remembering. They tasted like sunsets and summer lakes on my worn-out tounge.
/////////////
Don't worry too much
Don't worry too much
Don't worry too much
Don't worry too much
Now I'm worrying about you.
