(no subject)
one.
If you could find it, somewhere
in your heart to come to Virginia Beach,
I promise to make it well worth your while.
We have rum here, and my corset's
been getting awfully tight lately.
I'd be the best pirate ever.
Second to you,
of course.
two.
Sometimes I sit by the ocean,
(it is not as blue as yours)
and the little girl inside still
imagines, almost
expects,
black sails.
three.
Last night I drove to Norfolk,
your theme song filling my
car, like the smell of salt,
and sweat.
It was so loud I was sure
it'd conjure you,
right there
in the passenger seat.
Sullied, and unusual.
I wondered what your face
would look like, when the
woman at the drive-thru
told you that Taco Bell
doesn't
serve
alcohol.
You'd demand to know what
the sodding talking square
had done with all the rum.
four.
Maybe it's for the best, I mean,
how do you explain a pirate
in the living room?
"really, baby, he'll only be here a week."
Imagine the excuses I'd
make to leave my fiancée in
bed, while you and I sat
cross-legged, smoking a
joint, listening to
the Beatles.
five.
If I ever have children, I'll
tell them the story of how we
first met.
You were a brigand, without a ship.
I was seventeen, and
failing algebra.
six.
You'd probably get drunk, and start
random fires. You'd pillage the GAP,
and lead a full scale attack on Wal-Mart;
the international tabloid
headlines would read:
JOHNNY DEPP LOOK-A-LIKE TERRORIZES SOUTHEAST VIRGINIA
Somewhere in the south of France
there'd be one really
confused
actor.