let’s do the old school kind of love.

i’ll fall at your polished shoes and you can kiss my hand hello,

claiming my name through your fresh cigarette.

we can kiss in the pictures we take on the green,

you with your glasses and me in the pink skirt,

just a couple of kids, riding the wind into each other’s arms.

i’ll wear your name like a suit of armor,

and you can put mine in your coffee.

we’d be peaches and cream on a high-school high, never the bubble that pops.

let’s write our own fables and fairy tales.

warn the children of love, what it does to the brain

but throw out our caution just the same.

don’t worry, darling, i’m not bothered by screams

although my heart dries up when you do.

i’ll just hide in the roses, and keep my head straight,

and make tea for your throat in the morning.

let’s fall in love at the pictures

make out, make a scene, flaunt my naivete and

burn through my porcelain lungs.

let’s fall out of love in her bedroom.

paint me and your side girl, a vignette of war cries,

and wonder who you could love more.