I like the night because
when I look at the moon
I think of you
glancing up
and seeing it as well.
And it might not be
at the same time
but at least I know
our skies are alike.

Unrealistic expectations
are my forte.
I keep them in my sweater
pockets
for when I'm feeling hopeful.
And I get them out
against my better judgement.
No
no
no
no
no
why'd I do this again?

You are unattainable
in the best ways.
Like the way I know
you'll never hurt me
because the possibility of us
is slim-to-none
and you'll never get the chance.
Like the way it's easy
for me to find you
charming
because I can't see
your bad pieces.
And the way I won't
be able to write about you
will be good for my brain.

I wrote your name
and drew a circle
around it.
And waited.
I thought you might
appear at my window
but I only saw a
streetlight and the moon
and no you.

We didn't
meet at the
right moment.
We make sense
though
you and me
me and you.
Things would
never
fit together
like we'd want
and I know that.
I need you
to think of me.
You are the
big dipper
and I can know you
every night
when I lay in my yard.
But for you I am
the harvest moon
and I can only be seen
if you do it with purpose.
I'd rather be the
warm breeze on your face
so you can
remember me
the way I was.

If I'd known
you'd never
come back
I'd have stopped
for, like, four seconds
to memorize the freckles
on your arms.
I'd have taken time
to brand your laugh
into my eardrums
and imprint your arms
around my waist.
I wish I'd had more of a chance
to steal all your pieces,
but three days
equals practically no days
and you were gone.