and the moon too

even then

I don't remember my mom holding up the blue sky with a garden rake but apparently she did.

I remember opening the gates to you, agony, pleasure, that expansive planet of lust. this morning. i remember it i do. saying i held open the gates while you all the while were the key.

I don't remember when the thickness of youth began to thin and how it required more of the same to create the holy spirit of inspiration, effect.

I remember you walking into that restaurant I was working at behind the bar with sheets of rain and blue gray light backdropping you, how you appeared out of that world like an alien. and i a grieving alien my own. and you a grieving alien your own. and how two aliens with slender fingers touched on each other, poking for gold and it falling out like the coins from my pockets this morning when we moved horizontally. and how this morning you joked about them being sonic the hedgehog coins.

I don't remember the price of that tequila shot, pbr, all you can eat tacos and peanuts special at the gold room. i thought it was 3 bucks but simon said it was 4. i think he was right

I do remember you at the gold room that first night we left work and wandered about echo park like the whole town was a park, a playground of loud angry cars and sad old men at the bar counter who you thought i was giving too much attention to joking about god knows what before i kissed you.

Dreams Dont Diee by le turek brothers