I remember the day I met you
with my toes in the sand,
staring at the beauty of Huntington beach
you with your friends,
and I with books of poetry
you glanced at me quickly
soon looking away when I looked your way,
and when I say this I mean this
your t-shirt
yes,
the tropical t-shirt
was soon at the end of my bed,
when you didn't know my name,
and I didn't know yours
all I knew,
was the tropical t-shirt,
with its stains,
holes and wrinkles,
was soon to never come back again

m.b