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People narrate themselves differently when they’re happy Some ideas are simple, but carry so much weight, they’re deceptive. I knew my problems with clinical clarity so I ditched them. We left the city like it was on fire, there one minute, gone the next I couldn’t wait for my shoes to hit the ground, I mean toes hit the sand. Summers start out cool mornings in the 60s, it’s charmed but not swim hot Mornings at Héraclée the air parts jasmine and salt omelets on the beach. Watching him stretch, an appreciative pleasure like watching a crush. deeply romantic there, I said it, so sue me, we’re charged particles Our days are lazy our nights are crazy, they blurr together sometimes We’ve been together four years, and we’re still learning about each other “Name something that comes easily to you.” “Distrust,” I answer, smiling. He squeezes into my lounge chair, we’re very close up like two oiled otters “Do you love me,” he asked, “Let’s not be carelessly broad,” I suggested. That last was a joke my answers are typically insincere satire. He gets it, gets me. Why give the man straight answers? That would be boring. . . Songs for this: Juice by Lizo [E] Dance To This (feat. Ariana Grande) by Troye Sivan Sublime What I Got . . senryus are a form of Japanese three line poems each with 5-7-5 syllables

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