Let’s Pretend

by Julia Paul

 

 

Let’s pretend, in our secret madness, that we own a big, old house. A house full of sticky fingers and bare feet. Let’s pretend that we are outside, in tall grass, watching wildflowers grow and the sky shift. Let’s pretend that our dirty faces and long fingernails stand for something more than lazy play. Let’s pretend that the trees nurture down instead of up, that the red sky’s from fire, that there is no lust. Let’s pretend like it’s just you and me, no-one else but the bare ground, no other breaths, save our noisy lungs. Let’s pretend that we fell asleep on a porch swing, under the sunny sky, just an intoxication of each other’s scent; let’s pretend it’s our only oxygen. Let’s pretend that tomorrow’s yesterday, today is everyday. Let’s pretend that the world is gray, that the stars are blue and fallen trees are tunnels. Let’s pretend that we don’t belong, like an old, forgotten song, a lost moment gone, let’s not belong.