A million moments in your TV-filled life
collide with mines at this table tonight.
It's like Home Alone 2 the way I stare
and you smile like this instant has always been there.
I laugh back and wave, cause I'm a sucker for warmth these days.
The weather's so cold when old friends slowly fade.
"Hey can you pass the Ketchup?" I decide to say.
"It's a bit spicy, good luck," and you pass it my way.
I know it's not much, but my Wednesday touches yours.
We're friends for a moment, and I couldn't ask for more.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Remember that day we glided along rice fields,
me and you lagging at the back,
while the 12 of us pedaled bicycles?
The clouds drooled down daylight,
and I was feeling lonely and crap.
You glanced back on the road and waited. "You alright?"
your eyes said.
And we chatted about our problems, time chopping away on an x-asis,
as we passed fields, motorbikes, and watersheds.
Those shared moments every day
with you, our friends, and our Vietnamese teaching staff,
it aligned my universe like a human astrolabe.
I'm so glad our group traveled across the world,
riding bikes and drinking beer unbounded by maps.
It ***** being home now, far away. I miss you and I'm always bored.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC