I recall.
Just that being ready to leave to go out to Pitchfork, with a knapsack of delectables, a button down pink and white shirt with khaki corduroy shorts on, and a girl of red wearing a blonde crown, a smile strewn across her face.
I recall.
Jumping up and down, and remarks were had, like slate chalked equasions of childhood, I was a child, I am childish, and I danced alone that day, and for several days after, I, still dancing alone.
I recall.
Running backwards out of security in the Philadelphia airport in order to smoke a cigarette, leaving her at the gate, with the bags, worry tearing down her cheeks, coming in, and being alive, it was such a life-living occasion.
I recall.
Being at the Wilshire for lunch, her having the grilled tuna filet, and I ordering the angel hair au grandeur de profanation, wearing David Webb the most beautiful paused pristine girl in the Hills, and how lovely, how marvelous the day was, and it was a Tuesday.
I recall.
Bed ridden headaches, luke-warm Matzo ball soup, red horseradish, and apple juice, a smily face cookie bra, and watching the same beginning to the same movie for weeks at a time, sleeping inbetween the clever remarks, Lamarcked into growing into a summer cold.
I recall.
Searching hand over foot for clutches and handbags, wallets, and credit cards, through Walgreens trash cans, parties, cats in the night, heads in the dark, looking over the consonance of sounds too redolent to be sent through text messages, and received by yourself, seeking constantly to be sought after yourself.
I recall.
Writing on car rides, contempously wishing to sleep on sleepless nights, catch phrases in endless stairwells, and climbing fences, with vanity hand grenades on symbolic hand stamps that were similiarly nimbus, and walking alone to the car at 7am in the morning, never to be heard from again.