Golden State
We’re humming down the Pacific Coast Highway just north of San Francisco on our gap year in a rented real American cherry red 1993 Ford Mustang, all youth and chrome and horsepower and freedom, and you’re wearing a red and white candy striped top that makes you look like a barber’s poll when you twirl, dappled California sunshine dancing in your hair like fireflies, I kiss your sea salt lips and you flash me a smile that still shimmers through the long shadow of intervening years, one that keeps drawing me back, unable to forget, and unable to move on.
Photo Credit: Xiaofeng Liu
‘and you’re wearing a red and white candy striped top that makes you look like a barber’s poll when you twirl, dappled California sunshine dancing in your hair like fireflies’
Beautiful description and a poignant last line.