Sommer

Maybe we could build a fort, I don't know where. It's just if things got all effed up, I'd like to know where you were. I've got some milk crates; we could make stained glass with them, these green two liters and duct tape for trim. And we'll paint mud under our eyes and you'll tie weeds in your ponytail. Through a skylight that I'll make from scraps of old plastic wrap we could watch the moon pass through the holes of the canopy. Oh, Sommer.