You know what I’m talking about when I’m talking about this:
being a girl on holiday and wasting time with you.
Going far away and forgetting who we told everyone we were.
Being foreign. Feeling foreign. Weird platters for lunch.
Breakfast in the afternoon. Tan lines over our shoulders like
we’ve featured in a surf film. Hot strangers in bars. Photos
of trees in the sky. Pairing it all with a simple singlet and a
sarong, nothing more, nothing less. Heeled jandals? Not no.
Random bites. Coming back to life. Our togs lined up along
the railing. You make me want to throw my phone into the
sea, lie back with a drink and go all happy again. When I’m
not infinitely worried about losing it all, I’m infinitely in awe
that we get to have this.