Remember when we used to tell stories to each other Hanging from trees Pretending to be different ve
Remember when we used to tell stories to each other Hanging from trees Pretending to be different versions of ourselves? How we used to scrape our palms holding on barks and pick leaves that fell to our faces like sun rays The way we used to dig our fingers in the dirt and my shirt was no different from your shirt Dirty, sticky, marked with our adventures? And then my body embarked on its own; growing its own leaves. But you didn’t mind, The way it caught on with the seasons The way my body slipped and morphed and rounded like a camel’s back we used to pretend we rode in the desserts of Africa But then started to drip over the horizon of our childhood oasis until I could no longer exist without it and all at once I had to leave too. -- source link