half-brained

i think that our house is little and white and old and it breathes with the ocean spray

we are old sweethearts

the sun tans our wrinkled, soft skin

softer than when we were young

and our soft smiles blend into each other when we kiss

i think that you and me are childhood best friends who think the only option in the world would be to marry each other

we eat otter pops and jump on the trampoline and ride our bikes to the lake

i think that we are holding clammy hands in the hot sun and our parents are waiting at home with a bowl of watermelon

you and I do handstands under the water

and flop on our backs

and imagine our big lives in such little bodies

i think that we are 16 and breathless with red lips

i think that we have a coffee shop connection and we share one straw, not two

i think that our smooth hands are full of life and we are passing beauty to each other by being together

i think that we are 16 and alive, 16 and ready to move on, but still desperately clasping to the life-giving sun

as if it will burn out when we move on

how old are we?

I think that we are the earths surface and core.

That we are as old as the ocean and as new as the wind

how old are we? I think that we are the light from a star, we burned millions of years away And at this moment and at all of the other moments on all of the other planets

our aging soft skin blends leave the traces of our youth

our new smiles are our old and future smiles

How old are we?

I think that you and I are everything fresh and new and old and wrinkled and we cannot be defined in years