Nostalgia

the privilege

of being young and foolish;

we live free from form,

 

act solely out of instinct and impulse,

suck every drop of marrow

out of our own free will.

we cherish forgotten memories,

find joy in piecing them back together

with polaroid pictures

and whatever it was that made us laugh

or cry the previous night.

barefoot and shirtless

we wade through high tide

waves laced with nostalgia,

welcome sleepless nights

and embrace accidental bruises.

star-crossed and cross-faded

we latch onto the satiety

the summer heat brings

wrapped in each other’s arms.

 

we take life’s bittersweet nothings

and make them

everything.

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