at some point, not so terribly long ago,
you liked dangerously strong coffee,
sleepytime tea before bed,
and me.

snapped fingers from a wrist
bent behind your back
while the funk worked its way
to your feet.

tattooed a state
you hadn't known
in a decade on your thigh
because it was where you were from.

laughed like an alarm clock
sounding in a dream
from nowhere, jarring,
and instantly recognizable.

and tucked my hand
into your elbow's crook
to chafe my chilly fingers
while you walked me home.

to be frank,
I know nearly nothing about you today.
but we'll always have
those little things.