It was all we had:
Those lilac fields reverberating softly,
All our conversations rhythmically continuing like hip-hop on our way into Santa Cruz,
The way we waited and all those glances like
January rippling through,
Me falling in on myself,
Arms vibrating against armrests,
You sitting here telling me about it.
Let me know what you think when we finally make it downtown,
Tell me how much we will cost ourselves in the pennies we save for vending machines.
I have this funny way about me that requires all we have to be spent in millions,
Let me tell you.
All those art pieces we invest our fingerprints in,
The way the air moves when you look at it just right and I’m
Obsessed with thinking of you.
If all the pictures in the world could have one thing in common
I would want it to be the green parts of your eyes;
There are only so many things that let that shade dance.
You have to realize something and that something is that
You hold me in your very essence at a standstill and
I don’t know how else to tell you.
Letting you sip my cola and you
Letting me pick the lint off your shirt,
That’s true, true appreciation for the simple things.
I’m a big believer in Frank O’Hara the same way
You’ve always had your head in the wharfs.
Please promise me something;
Promise me you’ll read my ending with the same fervor you picked up the beginning,
With all its singlehanded nonsense because
What I like best about you is the backs of your hands and all the things
You’ve picked up with them.