To Lauren, a lost love of an airy adolescence (15 year old me)

To take to tickle take, and talk the time away a way to weigh the weight of the weary world's wayward wandering wanton worries. But perforce a chance a changed enchanted the steps of silly solidarity through the blackfogged street of lost angels and gliding grinding drops pop upwards and break the smog to a blue oblivion. Smiles and snarky hip dancing. Movement in moments and emerald eyes'll blink to brighter laws of lauren is a belle, aix-la-chapelle with merry bricks of dewy moss and drops of laughing spring water in new york's blooming haze.