it was perfect.

the depth of moonlit lonely bars in her mascara eyes black.

his sqeaky clean unlit cigarette. white.

and all the chill and silent . words between. keys.

to doors that would be open to jellybean souls.

all we need. or the daisy held in his lips would say.

all i need.

indigo, pink and lime hair dye. . in my ear . your chalky broke voice. whispering dusty retired cds filled with years ago. . $1.50 for 2 apples [one an apple core] and the metro home and one rockpop kiss from you. and the change is for my pockets. . the cozy thin stable-ness these caramel walls hold. . and the reassurance that these black and white keys will. ALWAYS. take me on a sour staccato toffee smooth ride and glaze my fingers with strips of joy and chunks of memories . and your smile. s. and you say you only need.

my songs. the cafe down the street. and your navy blue drumset. and God.

what?

hes always with us.

oh. yeah. huh.

now ive followed you through daisy fields and we've made it through some ugly ones and we've lead eachother now into this clear cloudless patch of them and your behind this door. you've already gone, my hand is trusting yours as im going through.

but i cant go through. its not my fault. you know a different part of the same world we share. you know these navy blue notes. and i know these keys. these black and white keys. wasnt it a daisy bouquet to give for. ? .

so please. tell me why youve left.