We used to keep locks

Upon dreaded locks

Of his hair in a shoebox.

We used to share custody

Of a gravity bong

A plastic piece of heaven

We went half on in the city.

"Four Rooms" could have been our movie

"Scenes Fom an Italian Restaurant

Could have been our song

Summer of 2002 was surely our summer.

But not our summer of love

Our summer of Misadventure

Sounds about right.

His summer of taking advantage

My summer of heartache

But I guess it could be worse.

We may never have had a summer at all.

Just a note to let you know

I'm thinking of you

05/29/2004

Posted on 05/29/2004
Copyright © 2024 Amy Wustrin