This is my studio for exploring my work. Consider these drafts.

We were each other's summer vacation

She looks like you but it couldn't be you because she is as old now as you were then.
Which is as old as I am and that is not young now.
But for a moment I pretend that now is then and turn around to see all the rest of them that would be with us now.
All the other girls kohl-eyed and Doc Marten'd. All the other men side-burned and pompadoured.
We're wrapped in a canopy of Djarum, thrift store sweaters and Riverwest flats.
Then you would lift a beer to your poppy-colored lips. I would want to bite your magnolia scented neck.

We were each other's summer vacation, even I knew that.
That our now was fleeting. Soon to be then.
You'd show up looking like a freshly picked tulip when I was done with work
and follow me down the long, dark nights that led to sea-sick mornings.
Your tea kettle terrified me. Your roommate painted Matryoshka dolls.
Then you got a new job you that you went to school for.
I left a couple messages on your answering machine
But I knew that you had slipped through the floorboards of my attention into then

(Text by Sonia Simões)

by Balthazar Simões