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and during such cold summers
we discovered braids in our hair
and let our laughs cry out
while we ran naked
into soft grass
into arms
where we would watch each other cry


casseroles for dinner
we'd capture the nostalgia of midwest u.s.a.
where i left my mother on the first night i was seventeen
and i followed him to the rooftop where the gravel fell
dust dust knowing heads, while i sat on a milk crate
and ventured into the park skipping and singing don't you pimp out my heart
i sold you shoes in hushed tones

and on the morning that i cut your hair
you named our goldfish echo
so the memory would linger for him
you wrote songs on our walls and painted over them twice
to punish the future


and now as we freak out climbing rocks
impressing the waters below, i feel your weather
this is our last summer
your whisper reminds me
oh dont you pimp out my heart
dont you pimp out my heart
of the look i earned when our eyes first met