you said you weren't cold outside
meanwhile i melt but
my fingertips are still numb from stroking
your hair in the spot above the back of your neck
and you say
that's not helping, that it's hard to leave me tonight

that was a mistake, i try
to say, but it's easier to lean into the
inevitable regret
that we now share, if we can share nothing else

I told you almost everything
and it was as pathetic as I knew it would be
the only thing I kept from you,
the only thing I kept for myself, a secret beautiful ugly tragic thing was how the first time you kissed me, next to the stairs of an underground parking structure on a clear night with your hands on my waist, when you tasted of cigarettes and vegetarian sushi and I completely, unwittingly, kissed you back, right then

I never saw colors before