sitting, making flower crowns from dandelions
sharing stories of nothing in particular
the sunlight mixes with dust motes
weaves in your hair and if it was a filter
I think I would call it "suburban dreams"
all it takes is one kiss to change the
way you look at me right now
sitting, on the grass with watered-down lemonade
and I think that I must be waiting for
the moment you tell me you love me.
