And I dreamt of you-
in a way that meant desire
And I had just thought, too,
Why is it always men in those faded visions?
or rather, boys, because who doesn’t want a common thrill?

You got your hair colored
I have to remind myself not to occupy my time with endless thoughts of you
I almost wished that you were aware.
It’s almost a thrill how bad I cannot have you.

When I doubt myself, I remind myself,
how could it be a phase-
just curiosity-
When that same honey-colored flame
hasn’t died fully
coming up on a year?

Your hands in my hair was a thrill
oddly intimate and difficult to place
Now you’re not even around.
“You and I shouldn’t feel like
a crime.”