4:31 AM

Things I don’t want to forget: The first time, the taste of wine on your tongue, bitter and sweet, music too loud, pounding through my veins. The way I cried the next morning, scared and unsure, sun pouring in through the window and dancing on your back. You pushed the hair behind my ear and said everything would be all right. The way you played your guitar and sang softly, smiling and sure, “the king of marigold was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the queen.” You forgot the words and I thought you were beautiful. 

Things I want to forget: The first time, the taste of wine on your tongue, bitter and sweet, music too loud, pounding through my veins. The way I cried the next morning, scared and unsure, sun pouring in through the window and dancing on your back. You pushed the hair behind my ear and said everything would be all right. The way you played your guitar and sang softly, smiling and sure, “the king of marigold was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the queen.” You forgot the words and I thought you were beautiful.