all we have are
all those stolen moments -

late nights and
wee hours of the morning

long walks and talks
that got me wondering
are these all we're ever getting -

the laughter in the backseat,
and little exchanges in the crowd
you showing up unannounced
or driving by late at night to hang out

the casual arm around my shoulder
or your guiding hand on my back

when you peeled me off the sidewalk
and drove me around campus

sat down beside me
on the steps
of that hallowed hall
at three in the morning
after everyone made sure
to have me remember them

and so I was kept more than drunk
when I gave you a hug

then the world spun around me

out of alcohol,

or perhaps the end swirling around

and as I made my way inside

I kept your eyes on mine
even as I closed the door

because I had this plane to catch
while you, your plans to draft

and between us our entire lives

so, maybe, all those moments
are all we're ever really getting