I saw you today.
Two plastic frogs.
A bowl of lollipops.
Two beers and two shots of whiskey.
One for you and one for me.
You forgot to slam your shot glass
on the bar before lifting it to
"I hardly drink anymore."
But you drink enough for the both of
But it's ok.
I just worry.
"You lost weight since I last saw you."
I kiss you.
To let you know I love you more than
ten pounds you say I weigh.
If I was ten pounds, you'd have to
dig another hole next to the bird we
Maybe you'd decorate my box too.
"Where did you get your shirt?"
"From the store where I work."
"I like it."
I miss wearing your shirts.
For the short time before you'd peel
them off me and toss them to the floor,
until I'd pick them back up, breathing
Or until you took them back before
I got too attached.
I thought they looked good on me.
They smelled nice.
Your scent, natural, not masked
with deodorant or cologne.
That smell that makes me melt before
you even lay a hand on me.
I walked away.
I didn't look back.
Just imagined you riding your bike
the opposite way.
"What was different about today?"
I can't put it into words so it's hard to
voice it to you.
Remember, I told you, you leave me
In a good way.
In a beautiful way.
Not back, for forward I look.
To the house in the woods.
The children in the catacombs.
A cheers, a slam.
To the future.
Until it is not our own lives we
live, but each other's.
I saw you today.
Lone wolf, silent doe walking towards
Hiding my insecurities with my bag.
This time you will not forget what
my voice sounds like
"Look at the clouds, I like them."
Two clouds appeared to be nuzzling.
That's what I saw anyway.
One for you. One for me.
One is you. One is me.
Not looking back, I concentrated on
them until they joined.