i wish he's be waiting there for me.
in beat up converse, leaning against an old car that smelled like the sixties inside.
he'd be wearing sunglasses when it's raining. and a scarf when the sun is out and the sky is blue.
he'd just be waiting there for me everyday.
when he spoke, he'd stutter out simplicity. and only smile when he meant it.
he'd accept everything for what it is, no boundaries, no barriers.
he'd fiddle with his old lomography camera and take pictures of the sky and wish he could be like the birds.
and we'd go to the beach and roll up our jeans and hold on to each other as we jumped in the waves. and he'd pick me up and swing me around and we'd get sand in our hair but we wouldn't think twice because the world is our oyster.
we'd have ciggarettes after dinner for dessert and listen to vinyl records and drink tea out of little white cups.
i wish he'd buy me things just because, like ice cream and we'd sneak kisses when no one's looking.
he'd play me guitar before i go to bed and we'd fall asleep with music perched on the tips of our ears.
and we'd watch the sun come up in the morning.
i wish he'd just be waiting there, waiting like the sun every morning.
with open arms.
he'd just be waiting there everyday.