NaPoWriMo 7

we are two stepping on a waxed marble floor
throwing heads back
up to ceilings 10 times our size
and giving laughter into the still air above us.

and my mind is full of nothing but the faces that float in front of me.
and i think of how this age clings to the physical.

i tell my dad all of this,
end with “really, all i’m asking for is a polaroid.”
he laughs.
“when you have simple, you want complicated. when you have complicated,
you want simple.”

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