venice

we want red bull candy and febreze on our keychains.

we love poptarts with frosting, unheated.

we want glam beats and dirty disko.

we get our picture taken by sketchy photographers who ride motercycles and think they have immortalized us with the camera's flash. (they are too late.)

we want to go back to the 90s but with cell phones that take video.

we expertly apply lipstick in darkened car backseats.

we cover the smell of pot smoke with island-scented body spray and too many parliament lights.

we get our movies on dvd, before the release date.
(we never pay retail.)

the story of our life plays out on screen and online,

via dirty texts and secret emails, in pixels and ringtones.

we define ourselves through itunes playlists and facebook status.

we play chess with two boards, on a chalky cliff overlooking the sea,

we believe in up to 10 possible dimensions.

we have art wars with digital cameras in real time, on cement, in darkness.

we pour champagne on rooftops while fireworks rain down at new years.

we kiss on dirty beaches at four am. while trying to google the sunrise.

we live on Mexican food and sushi.