Saturday March 25, 2017
From a fridge notepad
When this song comes on, it reminds me of you like that summer was last summer. It wasn’t. It was seven summer’s ago, and I didn’t even have a good time, mostly, but there’s something about you, there’s something about then, that catches like a bubble in my throat. I cough. Can I finally dislodge this? Can I finally blow you away?
I consider emailing you, with this song, in this coffee shop. But I don’t. I don’t need to write another chapter to that story.