telephone wires above are sizzling like a snare, honey

The hazy blue of summer nights makes me feel selfish. With tangerine clouds inching past my window as I lay in bed, I don’t know how I became so lucky as to see the world unfold around me. How I became so lucky to have been through so much and lived. To feel that tiny breeze play across my collarbone or that little thought of you peek through my eyelashes.

I bet you feel like summer and taste like ocean breezes.

Lana Del Rey is writing about us, you know.

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