Lessons From the Kissing Booth

I think that your pockets are full of magic. Mine are too, I suppose, but the magic in your pockets is something different and shiny. And I've only got a handful of all this this magic left.

I would like to build you a spaceship out of cotton candy and compliments, set it off from the corner between there and here. Inside, I think there would probably be cages full of paper birds and the astringent smell of too-ripe citrus.

I'll meet you at that corner, hands cupped around secrets, magic pockets full of all keys, a bathtub full of gin and flower stems.