I remember the first time you loved me;
You wore purple because that’s your favourite color.
And we got breakfast because you love breakfast foods,
Not Italian.
You drank water; coffee makes you sick.
You pointed to some lilies because you love that flower.
And you told me you didn’t think Gatsby really loved Daisy
Because she was the reflection of all the things he wanted;
He was just pretending to be something
To impress her, you say.
And this wasn’t something I found off of google.
And you mentioned how you never wanted to travel, Except by boat,
Because airplanes are terrifying.
You hated dresses and how thick makeup feels on your face.
And NASA is interesting, but you’d rather explore the earth.
You were living with me then.
I remember the last time I loved you;
I tried finding cruise ships so we could travel
To Paris because you wanted to see Eiffel Tower and you don’t care for Spain or Egypt.
And I researched french cuisine because that’s what you liked.
And I wore blue because you liked how it brought my eyes to life.
I talked about how fascinating ocean life is
Because you majored in Marine Biolog
Like you told me on our firdate.
Murakami has dust; I read Thoreau.
Your eyes are cerulean,
And you’re gone.
Just like the man who liked Murakami and Italian food.
But I’d sell moonshine for you, sure.
