she sings a song

summertime rolls ~ jane's addiction
& the video (live)

"me and my girlfriend,
don't wear no shoes,
her nose is painted pepper,
sunlight...

she loves me,
i mean it's serious,
as serious can be..."

friday night, sitting cross-legged on the floor smoking too many cigarettes and talking about the early nineties in los angeles. she used to run a magazine, and we flipped through the pages, remembering the band names, clubs, venues. i recalled a sunday night, back when it was stardust ballroom, i was sitting on a back couch talking to a boy with a camera. he was friends with the band, hell, weren't we all friends with a band then (and now)?

and the other boy, the one who would pop cassettes into my car stereo and ask me to drive. he would lay his head in my lap and sing to me. my free hand would wander, fingertips tugging in his tangled hair. he smelled of cigarettes and perfume oils, and something else, something undescribable, but uniquely his. we watched the sun come up, parked beside twisted paths and shadowy headstones. we traded rings and whispered words, as our bodies pressed against each other. neither of us knowing that it would be years until we'd see each other again, and that it would never be love again.