Today is good Friday.
It is sunny.
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Things build and build and build and build...and then she sticks in her ears (_phones, not bunny_) and begins to sway on the lawn.
"They made a statue of us..."
I think of friends. And family. And those hot parts that make you hiss when you hold your touch for too long. But you do it again anyway because something. somewhere. feels so good.
"That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song "
Things you love, things you hate, faces, places, colours you remember, all spoken to absent spectators as you wiggle on the lawn out in the sun.
"I would
I would
I would