Promise Me Then

Promise me we will go to see the geyser, stay for a while, and you will name your son Harrison.

Promise me I will have no worry about consuming sugar, drawing on the wall, missing my high-school friends, owning more camera, or running a little vintage bookshop.

Promise me you will graduate, and when I do, you’d clap the loudest, and wait for me with the cliché; bouquet of flowers. You would smile, so would the flower seller. Then the pavements would surely be full.

Promise me then.

Thanks

Thanks for letting me know that
it doesn’t have to be extraordinary
to be special

Thanks for letting me know that:
There will be sun, sun, sun