she had California dreams
she curled up to me wrapped up like a catipiller, we watched the snow fall from her warm apartment. Fluffy white drops of hell. Long cold commutes, wet socks, numb apendages...who could love it here? I do...she opened her eye, looked at me and sighed "ughh of course you would...you're just as grey as the rest of the city" so different I was from her. she was fire, feeding from the sun. more comfortable in light dresses and bare feet then heavy boots and wintercoats. I like the winter it's quiet. you can walk around at midnight the snow pale orange from the street lights...sound muffled and it's just you. Solitude. she argued...it's not even pretty here! It's brown from sand, slushy wet and covered in trash plowed from the streets.. Winter is ugly. I want the sun to come back. I wanted memories like these to stop coming back.
