i was riding through the city earlier
and i thought of you. thought maybe
if you were there,
we’d get off at the stop for the art museum.
we’d look at the paintings
and the sculptures
no, i wouldn’t be so cliched
as to say i would be too busy looking at you
to look at the art
because i would, of course,
look at the art.
it’s just that you would fit right in.
i thought maybe if you were there,
we’d get off at the stop for a place
we had never heard of
we’d walk until we found an ice cream shop
and you’d get two scoops of chocolate
and i’d pretend to judge you
because all sensible people get sherbet.
thought maybe we’d walk the sidewalk
and i’d point out all the dogs
and take pictures of you even though
you’d shield your face
thought maybe i’d pretend
i didn’t just try to hold your hand
thought maybe you’d pretend
you didn’t want me to.
i thought maybe if you were there,
we’d stay out until midnight
and admire the lights still on in the buildings
as if they were stars.
i thought maybe if you were there,
the city would bring out the quiet in us
the gentle liveliness
thought maybe you’d think
the sky was devoid of stars not because
of light pollution but because
they fell into my eyes
or something.
that’s what i’d think.
that’s what i thought maybe.
but you weren’t there.
so, lost in thought, i rode around
until it started to rain
and then wondered why i got wet
on the lonely walk home.
k.
