we don’t have the winter coats for this.
it’s january, and all the streetlights are out, like this place wasn’t expecting us. understandable. it’s been awhile, and we didn’t call beforehand, like the madcap ex-teenage renegades we are. for one night and one night only, it’s us against the world, gloved fingers tangled (like best friends & not sheets, for once) and cheeks flushed with color. nothing is good enough for two kids who hate themselves, and it would be just like old times, but we’re not those kids anymore.
the differences fly past height and wisdom come with age. your clothes look like you or someone else has taken the time to hang them up, and i don’t have to smile like i’m always acting out a prettier life. i can look you in the eye, even if i have to strain my neck.
when you insinuate an arm around my shoulder, i don’t really feel anything at all.