paul baribeau ( nothing to say )

I remember the way you felt
Your bathing suit was still wet
When you got cold you put my sweatshirt on
And I never got it back.
The sky looked like a watercolor wash
a hot-pink-orange sunset.
And maybe I should have told you how I felt
but I never thought you would believe it.
I figure it is too late now, and
it's sad to think about.
I remember the way you kissed
It was warm like fresh thunder fuzz.
We layed our sleeping bags side-by-side
In whatever town that was.