I knew.
I knew from the moment you told me how beautiful
you thought I was,
that it would last only as long
as the twinkling of a far away star.
Not even long enough for me to to remember to say hello.
Five A.M. became a habit
and we danced to the songs of chirping birds.
I let you hold me even though I knew
your arms craved a different cold body.
Those long nights outside the church that weren't
long enough.
That cute lisp and curly hair.
Those shivering arms and basketball shorts.
The adorable shyness and humility.
Walk me to my gate one more time.
I should have let you come over that one night.
Hot and sweaty, 2 a.m.,
to sneak in and use my shower.
Fill the room with sticky heat
and let the steam rise out as you exit the shower.
(You can still take me up on that offer.)
Cause I miss the way you tell me I don't smell like smoke
and how you listened to me explain
the theory behind the elder wand,
like you actually cared.
Fern Gully.
You spelled it wrong.
No spaces.
I. I. I.
Your jacket smelled like heaven draped over my legs and
I wanted to live inside the threads.
Walking so far just to listen to me ramble on.
Was it worth it? Ever.
Even after running back to her?
One. One. Only one week
that I was temporarily in love.
Tiger's Blood snow cones with cream on top
and you've never been to a concert so run to Salt Lake with me.
You do like to run, don't you?
Run from your mom. Run from your friends.
Run from feelings.
Run from her.
and Run to her at the same time.
But don't you miss laying in the street at three in the morning?
Or shaking the hand of the copper man?
and watching the summary of my obsession
on  my short green couch?
and holding me?
Even though it lasted a week,
a perfect week,
it's time to disappear.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.