buttercups out of a buttercup world

hear: don't ask me i'm only the president, badly drawn boy
wear: cherryprint rainboots and handmade jewellery

when we get lonely at black and white birthday parties, let's put on coats and rainbow scarves and go walking in the quiet midnight world. we'll sit crosslegged in muskoka chairs outside the sleeping library and watch as wind fills the treebranch sails. by morning, the frozen ground will melt and colour will seep under the skins of everything. the grass on citadel hill will glow yellow in the sunday morning light and we'll eat bountiful brunches, then study (hotchocolate drunk and sleepy) at the library. i'll be watching seagulls fly over the glass roof and thinking how you'll be here this time tomorrow.

suddenly, after all, things may not be so complicated.