tuck your tongue between these lines like the prayers
we whispered to shooting stars on the nights we spent awake,
afraid that our dreams couldn't be better than the taste
of strawberry chapstick and swallowed sea glass, sharp salt
like the rim of your margarita glass.
good things always pass, but they also tend to find their way back.
-
write poems in your math book for me.
i'll play x, you can be y.
it's always one of us we have to find,
never on the same side of anything.
we're complicated until we realize that there's a trick for everything.