January 2018 – Jarabacoa, Dominican Republic
//
mopeds move between lanes without lines, broken aluminum buildings & fallen signs
Frank Ocean plays through Lenny’s uncle’s beat-up truck
a manual drive
We’re old friends reminiscing in new places
about moving and staying and leaving and playing and falling in love, right?
we’re similar in that way
both silently missing the ones we thought we had to leave
hoping they’ll keep a place for us
kind of weird because
kind of we were lovers
but we were never real enough to be in love
even now
surrounded by gentle mountains, blue-grey twilit clouds and telephone wires. palm trees wave their large green leaves as the wind picks up
the water is so heavy in the air, pressing down on my chest. music and memories of you filter in through the open windows
humidity accumulating in the corners of my eyes
but I don’t want to tell him how much I miss you
I can barely bear to tell myself
the city of eternal spring passes
blue & white
like the flowers on my sundress
but darker now
through the rainclouds
still too scared to speak my thoughts
maybe that’s why it feels so good to hear them sung
thoughts 