He is wearing a blue shirt and I am laughing really loud
sitting at the back of his old bike
I lift it up and I stand up on the seat
my one hand touching his hair saying goodbye to my fears
But my gold sandals are brittle and a strap brakes
"You could make them into a crown and be the Queen of the Gypsies"
he tells me.
I take them off and I throw them into the sea.
From now on I will be walking barefoot and
nothing will hurt my bare Gypsy feet.
We are going down the pathway and I mumble words against the heat
He laughs and his laughter is blue.
And so are his kisses
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