Jul 2014
I.
I lean my head on your shoulder after reading
one too many sentences from my history book
and it tickles the back of your neck and you laugh
which I love to hear and you don't
move away so I'm hopeful that maybe you like
the way my head feels on your shoulder or
the way it tickles or the smell of my peppermint gum
that reaches your nostrils because of our closeness
or the fact that I chose you over the table in the purple room
to rest my head on.
II.
I ask you to dump out the bucket of dingy mop water
because it's too heavy and the storage room is small
but not too small for two that want to be close
and you almost don't want to but I give you a smile
with hints of seductivity so sweet that you can't resist
so you agree with just the traveling of my fingertips
across your chest and the unmistakable look in my eye
and we are comfortably cramped in this broom cupboard
but we hear keys so we keep closing.
III.
I walk out into the parking lot and the initial breeze cools
my sweat-kissed skin fresh from cleaning and I look
for your car and you smile with your adorable dimples
from behind your dashboard and I get excited
because there was tension we both felt but
once our manager drives away we can be alone
and you can prove you could win in a fight
that we know will lead to something else.
IV.
I walk up to your window
and your bromance enveloped best friend
is burning your hookah in the passenger seat
and at first I contemplate just returning the name tag
you let me steal and driving down Harvard to go home
but I'm hesitant because the promise of something
of anything is better than nothing so I ask to sit next to you
because the breeze is biting more now.
V.
I start to pick up hints after listening to talks
of football and strategies for fifteen minutes
and that certain promise becomes more like a facade
but I wait for you to tell him you're gonna get going
but instead you whisper that to me
and ask if he wants to go get food
as I'm getting up from the seat
so I ask for a hug as I'm leaving
and you ask if you can let go now
and I get it.
VI.
I hand you back your name tag
and you tell me to get home safe
and I don't even bother to sigh or look back
because I already hear your car running.
*February 13, 2014 2:39:47 PM
I lean my head on your shoulder after reading
one too many sentences from my history book
and it tickles the back of your neck and you laugh
which I love to hear and you don't
move away so I'm hopeful that maybe you like
the way my head feels on your shoulder or
the way it tickles or the smell of my peppermint gum
that reaches your nostrils because of our closeness
or the fact that I chose you over the table in the purple room
to rest my head on.
II.
I ask you to dump out the bucket of dingy mop water
because it's too heavy and the storage room is small
but not too small for two that want to be close
and you almost don't want to but I give you a smile
with hints of seductivity so sweet that you can't resist
so you agree with just the traveling of my fingertips
across your chest and the unmistakable look in my eye
and we are comfortably cramped in this broom cupboard
but we hear keys so we keep closing.
III.
I walk out into the parking lot and the initial breeze cools
my sweat-kissed skin fresh from cleaning and I look
for your car and you smile with your adorable dimples
from behind your dashboard and I get excited
because there was tension we both felt but
once our manager drives away we can be alone
and you can prove you could win in a fight
that we know will lead to something else.
IV.
I walk up to your window
and your bromance enveloped best friend
is burning your hookah in the passenger seat
and at first I contemplate just returning the name tag
you let me steal and driving down Harvard to go home
but I'm hesitant because the promise of something
of anything is better than nothing so I ask to sit next to you
because the breeze is biting more now.
V.
I start to pick up hints after listening to talks
of football and strategies for fifteen minutes
and that certain promise becomes more like a facade
but I wait for you to tell him you're gonna get going
but instead you whisper that to me
and ask if he wants to go get food
as I'm getting up from the seat
so I ask for a hug as I'm leaving
and you ask if you can let go now
and I get it.
VI.
I hand you back your name tag
and you tell me to get home safe
and I don't even bother to sigh or look back
because I already hear your car running.
*February 13, 2014 2:39:47 PM
