you said i am not a believer, but
  
   i believe in spinning sugary wisps of candy floss and watching them melt on
   your tongue like snowflakes and i believe in kissing the stickiness of your
   cheeks.

   i believe in painting our nails shades of green and pink and bleeding in the spot
   where you pushed my cuticles too far back, turning my nails crusty and red but i
   don't mind because you scratched the blood off with your blunt fingernails.

   i believe in watching the moon and the stars turn into clouds and chirping birds
   because we stayed up all night confiding in the rotting floorboards
   beneath our pillows.

   i believe in pushing rusty shopping carts down abandoned curbs, hearing the
   squeaking of wheels that need to be oiled, and never stopping, just like a
   rollercoaster into the horizon.

   i believe in walking to the park barefoot in our flannel pyjamas and wriggling
   our toes in the grass and feeling the morning dew seep into our pores and not
   caring if we got dandelion seeds stuck in our hair.

   i believe in climbing out of bed after midnight to scribble words inspired by you
   onto a greasy napkin i fished out of the trash can because you already doodled
   all over the lined paper i bought yesterday.

   i believe that you and i should run away, and we can leave all our cares in
   carefully bundled packages and we'll send them to the land of oz or perhaps
   hell, where we won’t be bothered by them ever again.

   and i believe in pancakes and Saturday morning cartoons and forgetting to put
   the lid on the blender before turning it on and me and you pressed against
   each other in the mosh pit inhaling the sweat and the spilled beer and the
   cigarette smoke and i believe;

                         i believe.