we slept on a mattress on the floor. there was no box spring, and it was bad for our backs. neither complained. the initial attraction revolved around the fact that he only had one arm. but somehow still managed to make such wonderful music, with a drum machine, and some ordinary kitchen appliances. young people holding hands makes me feel nostalgic. i was on the left. and on sunday afternoons we would sit in the giant birch tree outside the apartment complex and smoke cigarettes, making dinner plans. winter involved down comforters and cold hardwood floors.

sometimes snow is so beautiful you find yourself desiring to just lie down in it.
curling up and sleeping until your body shuts off. and you die.