that day

we had our own ideas, me and that boy ben: fireman and writer (i still want to be a writer) how some fantasies don't grow cold with time amazes me

but ben with his bright green eyes and always polo shirts to wear, scruffed up jeans and knee-holes we rolled in parks and kicked over ant hills and somehow knew that we were braver than anyone else on earth and were because of it seems like

2004-06-21 | 10:34 p.m.
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