september and we were super together and you were natural like a farmer to me you were a farmer and i coulda been a farmer’s wife with a farmer’s tan and your name written in raspberry juice up and down the curves of my chest and we would not be smiling all the time dripping with honeymoon anymore, for seconds maybe yes, but mostly working and class and working our ass off and classes with glasses cause i don’t see as good anymore gettin older, i guess and history looks a little different behind us if we were to look back upon the vistas without falling into it. i would rather fall into you and what you are doing, the hours behind a wheel of a truck, the 12 hour days or doubles, and yes i am single still, are you? if i pull with my arm will you blast your horns? shine your light this way, my love, we could unite like a night train unites with the night but the day will come when we see things for how they really are and would you want me then would i want you? i love you now and you care about me and that is a tasty concoction with shaved ice hoping not to get crushed at the foot of a celery stalk, melting the summer suns into autumn.