I remember only that
you had the lamp on in
the living room, and I had
crawled into your bed
because you said I couldn't
go without talking to you
for twenty minutes and
I was trying to prove that
I could. You were playing
your ukelele and I swear
I have never had so much
trouble breathing as I did
when I peeked out of the
doorway and you gave me
that slow, lazy smile. God,
who were we then?