is such a fickle girl. she's stringing along the east, while flirting hot heavy with the southwest, drinking margaritas and putting flowers in her sweet hair. listen girl, we need a fix, we need that smell of lilacs that briefly wafted through the air, we want for the soles of our shoes to heat up with every step, we need to burn off this grey sky and cold air.

i think i see her this afternoon, causing perspiration in dark corners and places. her yellow smile lighting up each fat bloom petal, purple pink and a little bit of orange.

has she gotten to us in her rolodex? did she dial our number, confirm our appointment? that'll last 'til the end of september?

i see her peeking through my windows, flirting up a storm. i'm feeling quite better, she's burned off the doom.