head throbbing, no pop in my ear,
Or iPhone in my hand,
sitting on the steps of the third floor.
We sit together, after hours, in
the C wing halls
because you don't like books.
Beige tile meadows, sprinkled
Here and there
With wildflowers left by youth:
Doritos, Pepsi, lunch trays.
The brick sky overhead,
Gleaming with Edisonian sunshine.
We read the funnies,
Featured weekly on staircase rails
And bathroom stalls in Sharpie, we
Listen to rap in Cantonese and Korean,
Knowing that the open fights,
The stolen kisses, the dress code strictures
Are transient; what we'll remember
Is these walls and these rails
Breathe our lives, our thoughts,
Echoes our minds