What does it
feel like to be
the perfect shape
to have set,
cradled in your
lap?
Head on shoulder,
hand on lower
back.
Would the
colorful lights
hung up high
be the thing
to glisten in
your eyes?
Or would it
have been me
and all the
endless possibilities?
Like summer's
playing in the sun,
me calling
shotgun
after your favorite
pastime?
Like holding hands,
stroling in the sand?
Like sitting on
the tops of flat-roofed
buildings,
would you have been
the one I counted
stars with?
Laying there
on that blanket,
life would be
sublime.