Up to the surface, cold and blue, I look over at her. Sweater on, suntan glowing - she says ‘maybe we should go’ and I nod my head, feeling the rain in my hair.
Wind picks up, throws me a towel. Up the stairs, my feet wet. Fluorescent lights, suntan glowing - she says ‘I’m glad we did this’ and I nod my head, feeling the rain in her hair.
Television blue ‘til three in the morning. Was she talking to me?
Eyes wide open, pitch dark - unsure of what to do, I nod my head. Dreaming of rain in my hair.
Judy takes a sip, says ‘I remember we stole bug spray. Out of money, blue motel, you told me to go to hell.’
I nod my head. ‘But remember the rain in your hair?’
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