today is the same and today is new--

today is the same and today is new--

same silver car with the

leather seats that are

always too hot or

too cold and the sunroof that

is always opened at the most

inconvenient of times like when

its about to rain or when the

wind is racing down the

freeway-new

stories that correspond with the

miles added to the counter on the

dash and fingerprints that

refuse to be washed 

clean.

same brick house, the one by the

sod farm, the house that smells like

fresh coffee, clean

laundry, and being young and 

stupid and alive- new 

traditions and measurements of

'normal' and love 

notes laying around the kitchen where it all

began.

same boy with the 

ocean colored eyes, the

same girl who chased him like

the moon-new,grown,gold

love, fear, reasons to

always remember the importance

of the silver car with leather seats and the

brick house that smells like laundry and 

the boy with ocean colored eyes who

promises to be there

always.