for once.

I love this picture of you.
My floral printed legs laying on your chest and my feet resting on your shoulders. You're looking drunk and sleepy. A polaroid. We've just argued over something assinane again, I'm sure, but as usual by now our white flags are tossed. The second man to call me "babe" and make me think of that pig movie. Thankfully, I like pigs and I like you. I'm a control freak and you're too laid back. I washed my sheets and where I used to love the scent of Tide, I'm left missing yours. Excuse me, I'm gushing.
Exhilarating as pressing my fingers into a bag of red clay: Cool to the touch. Limitless. Mine.
This is new.