Not the moon itself, but the light that fell from it*
reflected off the papery wings of moths
I almost mistook for shooting stars.

“Surely that’s not the ending”
Lauren slurped her soda noisily
as the credits began to roll.
“Shirley doesn’t live here”
was my only reply.

Cars began moving backwards
in my window, while pebbles
hurled themselves toward my windshield
as if to say
“Don’t. You’re not ready for this”.

My heart that had jumped during
the movie explosions not 5 minutes
earlier, was now oddly still.
Quietly shouting its disapproval.

Lauren didn’t make a sound
when we passed the street to her house
nor when my tires left gravel
and began rolling on sand.

Nor did she make a sound
when my tires hit the water
coming in from the lake ahead
as the car plunged into
the black black depths
and I could no longer control
our descent.

A moth fluttered against my window
trapped, as the moonlight disappeared.
It looked nothing like a shooting star now.

“Surely this is unfair to the moth”
my heart tried.
“Surely doesn’t live here”.

The vibration of the anticipation
of seeing you tonight.
I think I might
put on skirt
not to flirt but to impress
[Oh God]
I must love you,
I’m wearing a dress.
On the sand we’re shoeless
and it’s now I must confess
everything.

I met you three days ago and I love you.

We chase ***** and
Blickah Blickah dance
everything here is all just chance
we walk for miles on the beach
and if we keep going we can reach the pier
the ultimate destination, but
we keep getting caught
in our own procrastination.

We climb on a trampoline
of a de-rigged sailboat
and hope
that we find contentment.
Turns out
we probably could have prevented
all the ******* introductions
and started the production
of us from the start instead
of the part
we’re supposed to play.

A meteor shower,
[How so romantic comedy]
but we’ve created a melody
that’s in harmony with our souls.
We give each other biographies as we
stare to sea
as barriers fade away.
There is just so much to say
but not enough time to say it
don’t deny it
just try to find it
the words to tell me I’m right
or did this night
mean nothing to you?

Can you hear that?
A heart pumping, no thumping,
thump, thump, thumping for you
but you can’t see through
the lines and the walls
you just don’t have the *****.

[I’m too good for you.]