yesterday we drove around the san pedro cliffs smoking joints and listening to mixtapes. we perched ourselves on a giant rock and threw pebbles into the tidepools below. we sifted through millions of tiny shells and separated them by shape and size.
another name, another face. i came home that evening to sit on the rooftop and eat fruit rollups. a beer and a cocktail later and you tell me you love me because i contradict myself. how i'm small and big at the same time. you said you love my mannerisms and how i try to understand things. you love why i laugh and why i cry.
i tried absinthe and raw octopus for the first time. i was feeling daring and exotic.
