It was one of those days
when nothing else seemed to matter
but him and me.
We strolled around campus
with his hand in mine,
guiding me through the heat.
"Hold on," he interrupted. "Have you ever
written a piece about me?"
"Yes." I have written
a thousand pieces for you, I thought.
"I'd like to read one.
Why haven't you shown me any?"
I shrugged.
Because none of them
do your vibrance justice.