you silently picked me up and put me on your shoulders while your friend stood beside us, looking down the three story drop to the bottom of the empty mall. a nearby art installation made of thousands of LED lights lit up the specks of grey hairs on your head. counting the hairs made me drowzy, so i closed my eyes. i could hear the clicking of your friend’s Nikon camera, the rustling sound of your jacket, and the heartbeat in my brain.
we ditched the mall for a park, where i got caught up in the overwhelming feeling of admiration when i saw a well taken care of dog. i am drunk on 8 year old scotch i found in a kitchen cabinet at your cottage. when i was 8 years old i wanted to marry you. i’m 18 now, and all i want is to see you more often.