Love Letter To Sarah #182

You remind me of a Rock Star. Only without a microphone or drug habit. You've got that aura of a punk chic persona. Just as I lean over the album cover to snort another line, I am surprised that I do not see your face staring back. In a perfect world; You'd play guitar and smash up hotel rooms. Pushing a single strand of red out of your eyes And tucking it neatly behind your ear, You lean into me with hugely dilated pupils And whisper; 'What is with the trainers?' I shrug my shoulders and mumble; 'It’s an Ibiza thing.' Clicking the heels on your cowboy boots together in unison, You mouth the words; 'Pass me a pen.' 'I do not need your name on the side of my trainers To tell me that you existed this summer,' I reply. You smile. And I whisper to myself. 'I wonder if she will remember me when she is famous.'