Melbourne
I want you always to remember me as a laughing blur in the city lights, running across the street, hair wild and streaming, swinging a stolen pineapple from my hands.
I want you always to remember us at the bottom of those dark stairs, how it was still possible to feel your blue eyes bore into mine. I want you always to remember intoxicated nights when we could barely keep our hands off each other, limbs tangled hair fingers mouth forgetting to exhale.
I want you always to remember the words you could never say to me in your foreign tongue, how you hoped to be able to translate the world by meeting my eyes across the crowded room.
I want you always to remember feeling this young and thirsty, like you had all the time in the world but the nights still felt too damn short. Like we could wake up the next day and do it all over again.
I want you always to remember me, sparkler in hand, dancing on a rooftop parking lot for the sake of rum and freedom.
Because we were not made to last. Not for these memories to be washed down by the tribulations of time and boredom.
I want you always to remember that the sweetest things in this world are fleeting, and that you once held something too wild to be kept.
