You and I are best at night,
or in the lazy elbow of sunsoaked afternoons
curled up somewhere
talking books not television
religion not politics
in person not technology
honesty not reservation
life not death.
Sometimes you’ll hold my hand
mostly you’re looking the other way.
When we’re together it’s deepest sentiments
forbidden thoughts whispered
cinematic meeting of the eyes
carefully constructed
because sometimes you’re more theatrical than me.
More grammatically correct than I
maintain at three am.