one night,
we went walking.

days before your birthday.

walking to meet you at the corner curb,
i hid your birthday present behind my back.

i remember reaching you and you were eating a hot pocket.
i fell more in love each time i saw you.

you hugged me after i gave it to you.

i gave you my beret that night too.
complimenting you on how good you looked and how,
yes,
you can pull it off very well.

we walked close that night.

we sat on the swings at the park over the bridge and you told me about your love for constellations.
i don't know much about them and you told me to look at the sky.

one hand on my back,
the other pointing to the sky.

"do you see it?"

i couldn't take my eyes off of You.

i could make my own constellations in the galaxies in your eyes.

beautiful.