you'll breathe easier just knowing that the worst is all behind you
& the waves that tossed the raft all night have set you on dry land
& the waves that tossed the raft all night have set you on dry land
"Can I help it? You've got very invitin' pockets." And by pockets you mean ass. It's her own fault for having such an excellent one, really.
Again you're very much aware of the little box in your pocket and everything it means. Could mean. Might mean? You thought you were ready for this, but... fuck. "Well. Erm." Your hands are sweating which is definitely from eating too much corn and not from nerves, and is it getting warm? Because your neck is getting hot.
Bite the bullet. Get it over with. And do it in the dumbest way possible. That's how you get through life. "Vai. There's somethin' I... I wanna ask ya." Shifting on the blanket, you pull the box out from your pocket. Your leg tucks under you so you're kneeling dramatically, the little wooden container (made by you and covered with carved flowers) held in front of you. "Vervain - Vai - taku kairangi. Will you make me th'happiest corn-filled idiot at this festival an'....... go' steady with me?"
The box opens to reveal the black pearl you found together, now strung on a golden chain. It's nothing compared to your shit-eating-green, though, and the bashfulness that hides behind the showmanship, the cocky delight shielding your vulnerable, anxious hope. It's been a long fucking time since you were in a relationship, and the last time ended... well. We all know.
Again you're very much aware of the little box in your pocket and everything it means. Could mean. Might mean? You thought you were ready for this, but... fuck. "Well. Erm." Your hands are sweating which is definitely from eating too much corn and not from nerves, and is it getting warm? Because your neck is getting hot.
Bite the bullet. Get it over with. And do it in the dumbest way possible. That's how you get through life. "Vai. There's somethin' I... I wanna ask ya." Shifting on the blanket, you pull the box out from your pocket. Your leg tucks under you so you're kneeling dramatically, the little wooden container (made by you and covered with carved flowers) held in front of you. "Vervain - Vai - taku kairangi. Will you make me th'happiest corn-filled idiot at this festival an'....... go' steady with me?"
The box opens to reveal the black pearl you found together, now strung on a golden chain. It's nothing compared to your shit-eating-green, though, and the bashfulness that hides behind the showmanship, the cocky delight shielding your vulnerable, anxious hope. It's been a long fucking time since you were in a relationship, and the last time ended... well. We all know.
zeph
