This is by far the best moment I can recall, besides the ones when I’m with you.
I hope this will become a favorite past time,
When my child looks at me
Asking how I felt when I was 19,
I’d say pretty **** well;
For I sit on my bed after my alarm sound, class would be calling in 45 minutes.
I spend most of my mornings alone, thumbing through past words exchanged or written poems still hungry to be edited.
I blanket my legs
And wear his sweat shirt
With a coffee mug sitting on my left thigh, my four fingers curled around the handle. I can still feel the heat of it all.
This is by fair my favorite moment when I’m not around him, because I have just woken from a dream and my eyes are still heavy with sleep but the caffeine seems to be digging its way through my blood stream.
The air conditioning sounds remind me of a hotel and if I close my eyes I can smell the ocean.
But the coffee, I’ll taste through my English class
As I adore my professors ways,
Thinking it feels pretty **** good
To be nineteen.