Love, we are going to meet on Tinder.
or by the sea, in a four 'o clock rain, or maybe
while I sat alone at a cafe pretending to write,
and you'd come to me and say "Hi, I couldn't help but notice
how colorful you are on this grey morning."
or something more realistic.
We'll laugh a lot, make jokes to seem anything but boring,
and initially say a lot of "Um, so..."s to fill the silence.
You are going to catch yourself thinking of the brown in my hair,
the scent of the side of my neck, my skin in morning light
and I am going to memorize the lines on your palms like my favorite song.
Darling,
we'll kiss on my terrace and talk until, skies turn to drizzle and drizzle,
it turns to rain
and we would run, and kiss, and laugh, and kiss and burn like bonfire,
and the blues and reds from our chaos-painted bodies,
will turn into streams of purple, violet, lavender.
For a moment somewhere in between,
I will glance at your closed eyelids while you kiss me,
and wonder if you are here to stay.
In just that glance, I'd see dawns, teacups, naps on airplanes, and
several days, months, maybe years of quick glances at your closed eyelids.
And you, are going to spend days thinking of me at insignificant times,
like an old song from an advertisement you thought you forgot.
We'll talk, and then not talk and I will write you a poem or two
and you will say something like, "I appreciate that."
Years after, I'd be reaching for tea in the cabinet and maybe Twinings would remind me of you and I would stir you,
in my cup of tea like sugar till you dissolve to nothing.
and you will tell another girl
of how you haven't been a part of something serious in a while, "just a couple hookups" you'd say and think of me.
And all that there will be of us,
is an empty terrace somewhere stained purple, violet, lavender.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
Love, we are going to meet on Tinder.
or by the sea, in a four 'o clock rain, or maybe
while I sat alone at a cafe pretending to write,
and you'd come to me and say "Hi, I couldn't help but notice
how colorful you are on this grey morning."
or something more realistic.
We'll laugh a lot, make jokes to seem anything but boring,
and initially say a lot of "Um, so..."s to fill the silence.
You are going to catch yourself thinking of the brown in my hair,
the scent of the side of my neck, my skin in morning light
and I am going to memorize the lines on your palms like my favorite song.
Darling,
we'll kiss on my terrace and talk until, skies turn to drizzle and drizzle,
it turns to rain
and we would run, and kiss, and laugh, and kiss and burn like bonfire,
and the blues and reds from our chaos-painted bodies,
will turn into streams of purple, violet, lavender.
For a moment somewhere in between,
I will glance at your closed eyelids while you kiss me,
and wonder if you are here to stay.
In just that glance, I'd see dawns, teacups, naps on airplanes, and
several days, months, maybe years of quick glances at your closed eyelids.
And you, are going to spend days thinking of me at insignificant times,
like an old song from an advertisement you thought you forgot.
We'll talk, and then not talk and I will write you a poem or two
and you will say something like, "I appreciate that."
Years after, I'd be reaching for tea in the cabinet and maybe Twinings would remind me of you and I would stir you,
in my cup of tea like sugar till you dissolve to nothing.
and you will tell another girl
of how you haven't been a part of something serious in a while, "just a couple hookups" you'd say and think of me.
And all that there will be of us,
is an empty terrace somewhere stained purple, violet, lavender.
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