(w/the flower choir ensemble) 


In the summer camp, down by the hill

i'll get some time to think

laying down on the pier, throwing stones to the lake

one stone for everything

that i really miss

like my dog, and the crows, and the smell of here

and i'll keep a very special pile of

heavy and black and polished and weird and terrifying stones

for the nights when i missed you

(and even when i could still see you)

...


for the sweets things you said that i don't want to

know if they're true

for you wearing my shirts and riding your bikes in awarm night

for when we didn't even say goodbye

for when i was stuck in the airport with amazing

lightnings keeping the plane to the ground

(and i wouldn't even call you)

for the anger and the pain that we softly built

for the anger and the pain that we tenderly built

for the anger and the pain that we hug-ly built