Channeling my 17 year old self. Channel, channel. Chunnel.
Really could’ve fooled me on this. I think I just like the novelty of an acoustic version of “Slow Hands”
the shivers - chelsea hotel #2
That little keyboard solo near the end, that’s hot.
One last stop, he says. And they drive to Westside Lanes.
I grew up bowling. I don’t want to bowl. It was raining.
We’re not going to bowl, the circus carpet dark with gum
beneath them, and he parts the curtains on the best
photo booth in town. He feeds it the three dollars, Get
in. They somehow share the short ridged stool. In here
we have to tell each other one true thing. You first. Click.
This is the best way I could think to have my arm around you.
Click. Click. Click.