observation iii

We run back to your house,

The lights are still on,

And they cover your freckled face,

Like it's the sun.

 

The grass brushes our feet,

And the wind catches in your hair,

And you look like you're in a movie

And you'll kiss me then

 

And when I think I'm used to it, 

you do.

izz_midnight

NH

16 years old

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