even though the words uncatchable and untagable still exist.

he needed her. he needed to see her in order to save her. he was only afraid of the leaches in the lake behind his house, but he'd swim out there anyway. he sang songs about highways and getting out of the town he was born in. he heard her songs all the time, but was too afraid to learn the words or ask her what they meant in the first place, or the last place. they met at the lake and he hid all his fears and awkward dispositions, if only for the time being. she brought her blanket and wore her favorite dress. they took off their shoes and stepped stones across the lake. he wished she'd slip in, so he could catch her. he just wanted to touch her arms and pull her closer. but maybe he was more afraid of breathing her in too fast than the leaches below the water's surface. on the other side they stared up at the stars. she squinted at the milky way and he gazed at the dippers. to him, she seemed endless, boundless and mysterious. whatever was going on inside her was too much to understand all at once, but he was ready to be smothered by her past, present and future none the less. she fell back on the blanket and reached for him to follow. he felt the leaches in his stomach, tossing and turning with his nerves. he fell down too and it was only accidental. she turned into him, her crooked jawline finding a place in the nook of his arms. she explained to him why she kept her hands hidden and her hair a mess. and he told her he didn't care. he liked it that way. he liked her that way. he told her stories about his family and his childhood pets. she mentioned her past, but told him that she threw it away, along with another boys songs, one old backseat, and someones tuxedo jackets. she talked about love and longing, her grandmother's old things, and the pills that got her through the sometimes endless days. the night seemed endless. they got closer as she opened up. they got closer once he let her in. wrapped in the blanket under the moon that was just recently returned to her. there were no power lines or bright lights to wake them during the night. they slept tight and they curled up. the last of summer's night owls and crickets sang them off to sleep. the august breeze aided him in holding her tighter. "just let me in, and when you are sad, you can tell me. and when feel lost, you will find me. and when you feel low, i'll always be there. just let me in, you can always let me in." she whispers soft, he puts his mouth on her bare shoulder. words creep in and out of their mouths, some short sentences and some favorite lyrics here and there. the voices are blurred by falling lids and touching lashes. she'll go where he goes. "if you walk away, i'll walk away." her favorite songs are flooding her brain and pour though her lips out her sleepy mouth. he answered her anyway, he told her he'd aways tell the roads they could take.