Pretty little girl

leaving colorful marks all over me

(like a handful of skittles

in the summer.)

She’d love a name like Summer

or Always

but she’s only got

the most beautiful lips

I’ve ever seen—

Babe, any word on those lips is Lovely.

Tell me you love me, but not

if not. I can be whoever you want me to be

and leave colorful marks

(like a handful of skittles

in the summer.)

Skipping stones can be so lonely by the ocean

and holding hands, too;

unless the fingers talk to each other

it’s all just matter

(it doesn’t matter.) Then again

sometimes

the stone skips so far away

that all that’s left is the ripples

and ripples

and ripples

and the horizon

rippling in the ripples

(like a smile, and some dimples)

(like a hand) and like a handful of skittles

in the summer

(you’re an oceanful of wonder)