I forgot my headphones.
  Taking the 6AM bus.....and no headphones...
       Brilliant!

I look out the window with a cold hard stare.
The bus accelerates from the station.
Vroom glug glug glug Vroom! glug glug
           Vvvrrrrrrmmmmmm
    It leaves and makes a sharp right turn at the corner.
The passengers make no effort to stay still in their seats.
      They are asleep.
  Chomp....chomp..gulp....chomp
The passenger two seat across from me eats a bag of chips.
     Sssssssstttttttt
   We stop.
        Ssssttt. KER-SQUEAK!
The door slowly opens.
   Clip clop Clip Clop Clip
A business woman walks consistent steps similar to a metronome click.
   Behind that make-up is a woman who is still half asleep.
  Ssssstttttttttttttt      Vrrrrmmmmmmm
                 SNAP...SNAP.....POP!
  Her gum clicks to her tongue as she flips out a magazine from her large Coach Bag.
         scrit     scrat      scrit     scrat    scrit    scrat
As an old man rubs to nickels together;
staring down at the platform with his hand rested on his leg.

     Bump....Bump..DING
  My stop is up.
Where has the time gone?
I fell in love with these sounds.
  My ears didn't even have to make love to music.
Why should anyone ever want to drown sounds out?
That's our problem.
We drown this world out.
     But the world is beautiful when it wakes up.

i can picture it now!
you and me on a porch swing,
or me, the passenger when you're driving
with all the windows down.
lets do that someday,
just go for a drive.
and when the sun sets,
we'll find a quiet spot and blankets
and lower our voices to whispers...
whispers soft as fleece and cotton *****...
sweet nothings? no. sweet somethings.
i'm in love with you and your whispers...

It’s tough to be at a party with a girl you like
Who doesn’t feel the same exact way towards you
She got dolled up with her girlfriends
Before she came here
And she looks **** as **** right now
Time runs; you forget about the drink in your hand
And start counting all the ones that pass through hers
People holding red party cups that are filled with
Foam and beer
Or maybe ***** and mountain dew
It really doesn’t matter all that much because they all end the same way
Empty

A lot of these faces I don’t recognize
I introduce myself to everyone just in case I get
Brought up in one of your conversations and they can tell you
How cool I am through drunk speech and loud ****** expressions

The bass bumpin’ music in this house starts to feel quiet
So I can concentrate on her voice
Which is already music to me and
The loud bass of my heart blew my speakers out last weekend
When I walked her home so,
I don’t expect my speakers to be turned up to
Max volume anytime soon.
There’s a strobe light pulsing along with the music
In this dimly lit living room and it
Reminds me about the childish parties we’d attend when we were ten
I remember one time in a room quite like this
We played musical chairs
My friend, her and I were the last ones standing
And when the music ran out I watched you two quickly sit next to each other
I have that same feeling right now

I’ll hear two things on the drive home
Either really loud punk music or silence
I’ll think of two things on the drive home
How I wish she were in the passenger seat next to me
So I can feel like her protector
Or, I want to be in the passenger seat and have her drive me home
I want her to be my DD for life
Her hands turning this wheel
Turning my world as street lights and stars guide us home
And home can be where ever she lays me down
She’s got arms like warm blankets
That wrap around my body and I call her safety
It’s unfortunate that she has a boyfriend
Riding in cars will always be a fascination
About this time there’s nothing left to do
So I spew my dinner and whatever drinks I’ve downed
Into a perfectly placed white toilet bowl
And the main thing I’m looking for is the face of Jesus
Or the ****** Mary to manifest itself within my chunks
Giving me some faith, some hope
But let’s me honest…
In that toilet, it’s just *****, straight up
There’s no Jesus to be found here
So therefore, I’ll always get back on my feet
And I think to myself
I’m to think to drunk right now
So I’ll have my brain slap five with my heart and tag out
Get back into that party atmosphere with my friends

Now that I’ve gotten you out of my system
I’m ready to substitute it with fun

I found myself
driving down the road
with the wind blowing
cigarette smoke in my face

I found myself
in the passenger seat of her car
with the bass kicking louder
than the lyrics we screamed

I found myself
in the reflections of windows we passed
blurred by the downpour of rain
but not completely erased

I found myself
in her laughter and
my name passing through her lips
as if it were her song

I found myself
alone
her name floating through my mind
wondering where the hell it went wrong

we drive in your car, me in the passenger seat
talking about your new boyfriend and how kind he is
playing songs that i don't like
i can't drive but i watch the roads with you
your hand on the steering wheel
your hand so close i can feel a current run through us
different from before-not as warm or electric

in my dreams this was different

but it's nice to no longer be enamoured by you
to not think about the stupid things i would do
things that would leave me red faced
things that i would think about before i went to sleep
spinning in my head like an unwound tape
gruesome and divine

i know that i am over you
when i can feel the scabs from where cupid struck
no longer hurting but still there
i am healed but i still like you
you are kind and funny and everything else

but I am no longer drunk on the toxins of your love

we could be friends, i think
as you pull up outside my house
i get out and smile
this was nice
is love dead? will i ever love again?
my thoughts shift like sand
but i am just glad that this tape will never play again
and i will never hear the music

I began my journey,
Walking down on this lonesome road
Wandering for miles and miles
Til a car passed by and offered a ride

She greeted me with a welcoming smile
We talked a lot and exchanged stories
We had a lot in common,
And It made the journey more exciting

It was all smooth sailing
Had we not been unaware,
That the ride was going too fast
We had to make an abrupt stop

I'd hope that I could reach the end of my journey with her
But I guess from this point on
I’m walking alone,
but this time with a smile

Anxiety for me feels much more fast-paced than others, or so it seems.
My mind takes full control as if I were a passenger in a car.
Looking side to side at all the other cars,
They all look the same yet different.
Then we get on the highway and everything changes.
It makes me want to be in a car wreck,
So my eyes can finally see the yield sign,
And my brain can stop going over the speed limit.

I appreciate the way things fall together. However, most times I ignore the simple beauty of things and always look for a purpose.

Ken and I were driving the afternoon streets of Lincoln. Contemplating how prefect things would be if a chauffeur got behind the wheel and we wouldn’t have to balance a lighter fumbling between finger tips. We got a road filled with daily routines and places people need to go. Where do you need to go?

We were burning our way east down Vine street when girls turning from 33rd decided it would be nice to look our way and wave, “hey”. Now you know me…The woman driving the car was obviously paying her attention on the road (as she should be), but she wasn’t very attractive so things worked out. However, passenger and backseat were occupied by pretty girls looking eighteen with wide eyes and hands waving.

We tried passing phone numbers by illuminating fingers to clarify digits. This is where a chauffeur would come in handy because I can’t drive a car without any usable hands. But, like most things, it didn’t work out and they needed to leave left on 48th while I knew my car needed to keep going. They turned. And it was poignant. I went straight.

About five blocks later I turned around. Often times in life these good things linger for a while but then eventually pass. I’m part of the later party who recognizes its existence far after the time has been spent like most of my money on material moments. So don’t look me over while I’m trying to look for you. This is so like me. I turned on 48th street looking for something that I knew was well and gone. I couldn’t find a purpose…I’m not obsessed and this shouldn’t be looked upon as creepy, but I couldn’t understand the reason for these girls so, if you’re looking for me I’m on 48th street seeking a reason. There’s a tragic flaw for ya.

de•ranged
            adjective: mad; insane.

You say that you are deranged —
that you still are,
and that you may forever be.
I sit quietly, vacantly peering out the window from your passenger seat —
(making sure I smother and swallow my emotions from pouring out).

I watched him take California's south side,
tossing invitations back over his bronzed shoulder,
in a careless way he had coined

But the sky here has a way of wrapping me up, lifting my chin
upward and rooting my feet in this rocky Missouri soil
Like petals of an overgrown sunflower, my lightened hair
danced around my face

I watched the pale blue of the sky fall down on me and intensify
Masking the sprinkle of stars where our gazes had collided,
though the pairs of eyes set thousands of miles apart,
resting snugly in their sockets

Sleepy words streamed into my ear, leaving my mind feeling lazy
Hardly able to find the familiar tinge of dryness in his sentences--
As though the thoughts he had were lessened in value the moment
they passed through his lips

The early morning clouds had not yet agreed upon the day's weather,
billows of white thinning out into wisps and collecting again
Slipping over the roof top and onto the next neighborhood

I was lulled to sleep in their slow deciding as he held his breath for
the yellow of sunrise to spill through his shades in slats,
reassuring him that the darkness is not forever, although I had
caught him wishing it might be

I had never met my match until our two brains rattled,
our hard heads made contact and butted repeatedly
He made a habit of softening mine, kicking soccer ***** at my face
and kissing me slowly

Fast friends, always outrunning one another
Cynicism rushed warm red in our young blood
We unbandaged our wounds, and bled
openly into summer nights- so thick you could reach out
and steal handfuls of loud black

My crippled hands shakily wrapped up his festering gashes
Sealing in hours of stories of starving, of screaming,
of a scared little boy all bruised and beaten, before
we vanished back into our laughably broken lives

The back of his Blazer became my bed while my darling father
snored drunken oblivion into the air conditioned house I escaped from
Fresh cut grass from the open field, caught rides on my bare feet,
scattering across the comforter that spread over folded back seats

We wrestled and hurt ourselves, I would win, underneath him
We got faded and hurt each other, spilling unspeakable tales from
between our teeth and tears from frozen eyes, down onto our collars
Smoking like chimneys as we lay, swimming in music and moonlight

Every sunset was justified in its ending
Putting the people to sleep and quieting the cooling streets
The beginning of every day was a feather
trying to break the spine he was straining to straighten

He would tell you he was fine,
never given the chance to settle into good,
interrupted every time he slid into being okay
I would tell you he was a private young man,
overcompensating for chronic unhappiness
with good intentions

Laughing off every nightmare, until the room shook,
with sinister hilariousness-his own brand of medicine for
a sweet heart, poisoned by misfortune, a sharp mind
blinded by the lack of peace and easy comings

The night he left, I bought a sapphire tie to compliment his icy eyes
Unsure whether It would be a poor parting gift
or end up tied around his wrists to keep him from going

We had ended the physical slice of our relationship some time before
I sat in his passenger seat and struggled to form a sentence
that would be worth a ****

We waited for our stupid minds to catch up
to the swelling and swirling of emotion inside us
Refusing to say goodbye out loud, I tasted the
Peppermint and *** on his mouth for the last time,
quickly

My best friend went away and he never came back

Someday I will be unexpectedly thrown to the ground
Blaming it on my own unsure feet
until I catch sight of the culprit pair of Vans attached to a
smirking Blonde Beauty

I will grin as I trip on him again

Baby, we got on the roller coaster and everything began spinning. We were dizzy. It was almost 10 o'clock and we had own hands full of cold. It was us two, baby. You and I in the middle of the roller coaster, you and I in a totally insane sunday splashed with darkness. Baby, you and I, broken, fragile, demented. ******* up. With our *** cold. Happy under the rain in the roller coaster. I think you closed your eyes to touch with the tip of your fingers the black sky, the clouds, the rain and then you said that something wasn't going ok in the roller coaster, that it smelled like blood, and I told you to keep calm, that nothing was going on. The night smelled of blood, of wet newspaper, of liquor, of a just-fired pistol. Keep calm baby, I told you, every sunday is the same, but you insisted something was not ok and then you vomited and we look backwards and forewards and we were splashed by drops of blood and rain. Every passenger in the roller coaster had cut their veins and their blood was falling everywhere. Keep calm baby. You kept vomiting. The passengers were looking at the sky, they were with their arms opened and you said, what a nice way to die, keep calm baby, and you added that maybe that people dreamt of touching the sky and the clouds with the tip of their fingers and its better not to *****.

I Remember THAT Day

I remember that day

I remember that day

THAT DAY………….I FOUND YOU!!!
I remember that ….*******, ****** ***, **** YOUR LIFE TYPE OF **** DAY

We were both just fifteen years old, so rebellious but shy in our own right minds

You were just fifteen years old, when I found you slouched over the steering wheel of your mother’s 1978 Red Ford Pinto

YES, that red Ford Pinto with the rusted out, broken muffler, busted right tail light and six dents on the passenger door (that we caused when we were just 13)

YES, that red Ford Pinto that your mother insisted on driving us to school in, only to have us insisting on her dropping us off a block early, why, because we were too embarrassed to get caught seen in that “hunk of junk”, “*******”, red Ford Pinto.

I sat down next to you, in that red Ford Pinto, but you breathed not one single breathe out of your blue stained lips. I screamed at you “WAKE THE HELL UP, **** YOU!!”
My voice cracked with apology, I was so wrong to yell at you, as thoughtless anger filled my heart with sinful hate. But still not a single breathe passed through your lips.
I whispered in your ear “I am sorry”

I remember, that day and that single note you left on the dusty, cracked dashboard of that red Ford Pinto. That note with scribbled letters running across the wrinkled white paper and the pen that you dropped on the floorboard. That note that read “I don’t understand WHYYYYYYY”

That last letter on that note, that you penned, was flown across the paper as if you didn’t want to leave. THAT LAST letter gouged the wrinkled white paper with remorse and apologies. I felt every syllable that you wrote stapled across my chest as if I was being pierced by a thousand sewing needles that were trying to mend my severed, bleeding heart.

I REMEMBER THAT DAY, IN THAT RED FORD PINTO, WHEN I LAID MY HEAD ON YOUR BARE SHOULDER AND HELD YOU CLOSE TO ME. I REMEMBER OUR FINAL EMBRACE.

I REMEMBER THAT DAY, IN YOUR MOTHER’S 1978 RED FORD PINTO, WE WERE BOTH JUST FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, SO REBELLIOUS BUT SHY IN OUR OWN RIGHT MINDS, I REMEMBER TAKING MY FINAL BREATHE AS I HEARD THE GARAGE DOOR START TO OPEN.

And the worst part about letting you go is I had to let go of everything you ruined. When I listened to my favorite songs I could no longer enjoy the rhythm or get lost in the lyrics, no. Instead I got lost in the way your lips sang along with the words, the way your eyes lit up when I decided to join you. I could no longer just drive down the road because every time I happen to glance at that passenger side, I could see glimpses of you. I could hear you from a distance laughing at the jokes I told. I could no longer walk down my hometown street without feeling your hand in mine, or go to the grocery store without relieving those moments in our favorite late night spot. I couldn't bare going to the park and listening to the leaves in the wind or watching the stars at night because you took that away from me too. You ruined the things in life that made me smile, that made me happy. My sheets are in the form of your silhouette and reek of your soul. I cannot wear my favorite top, I cannot view another sunset... because of you. I don't wear my hair the same way, I don't speak the same way. I cannot bare the loss of you. But I need to.

i could imagine you
filling the empty spaces
– on vacant cafe chairs,
the space on my bed,
even on my passenger seat.
and it hit me,
having you around
even in altered realities
makes everything else
seem so comforting.
perhaps you're my ****** pill.

I wonder if the big bang
was a response to god's loneliness

And maybe he sat alone for a long time
half braining ideas
about making things that
might love him

God never said
let there be light
he just put a gun in his mouth and splattered
stars across the wall of the universe

His black hole brain
something like regret
trying to **** all the stars back inside

And I think about the days you tried

But that's not like you kid
Even though you had blood
spilling out a hole in your gut
Bone white shallow breathed

There are still stains on the passenger seat of my car
Which I now call my living room
because I am homeless

And there are no walls that could hold the contents of your head
like jackson ******* bloodspatter
a pretentious painting titled
and homage to the ****** of failure

And you are not our mother
suicide cocktail
no ice

and you are not our father
an Alzheimer's ghost
Haunting a history
we never lived through

You are skinny like water
running down the zylephone of your ribcage
tinny laughter

Asking me questions like
if love is as powerful as they say it is in the movies
then why do people give up sometimes

I'll never give up I said

You asked me if I thought god was mad at you

the doctor chalked up you living
to just luck

and I think of when god made molds of men out of mud
and breathed into them
and the mud men lived
Mud must have felt lucky then

But for us its not luck
we make so much fuss
Just so the world knows
we're alive as ****

Summer was spent chasing sunsets. We held on tightly to the last light of day as it slipped between the cracks in our fingers. We traveled anywhere the highways were willing to take us and passed through an infinity of small towns, each identical to the last, but growing smaller all the time. I learned to love you under endless blue skies seen from the passenger side window and in your shattered mirror, shards of glass barely hanging on. On cloudy days, we hid away in my freezing basement behind closed doors and under mountains of blankets. We shut the world out and made our own in which we felt we could belong. We would lie for hours, limbs intertwined, so close we became one. We were there, in that place, in that way, in that moment, frozen in time for all of eternity.

A black sedan cruises by with patches of white left behind from the last life it lived. what once stood for justice stands for rebellion as youth irons out the creases in expectation.
     A ******* yellow bug carries triplets each from a different family, each wearing pink bows. They turn in perfect syncro with heartless bug eyes when they catch me unconsciously stare on.
     A small hatchback with a busted taillight; full of ****, comics, and action figures bears a bearded chauffeur who drools all the way back to his cave
     Smell the sharp burning chill come from that coupe with the yellow windows and eyes as red as the ember passing from passenger to passenger in the mirror.
     The little old lady in the silver Buick can't even see over the wheel. Probably better that way considering all she'd see is a bunch of terrified youngsters in a panic to get to that blasted rock concert.
     Don't let the dented tailgate fool you, the only work this one's seen is the piece of work he has waiting for him at home; with fire in one hand and fear on the plate in the other.
     Vans hold all kinds of secrets but the only one this van holds is how its still allowed to come within a mile of a school. After all, candy and ice cream will rot your teeth, especially if they're free.
     Orange, yellow, red, green, blue, checkers. Either way, he's gotta make a living, and if it's to the airport you want to go, he'll get you there in a jiffy.
     The rear view mirror of my old 65 shows only the smirk and grin I wear as the rumble of turn down exhaust wakes up towns and sets off alarms left and right, and sirens blocking my view in the back.

Oh my,
Tell me what it's about this time,
Said you're just saying goodbyes
To the ones that loved you that you never really loved back.
Good times,
Hanging out the passenger side,
In the cold wind and Christmas lights,
When you took me by surprise.

You said "I'll never find another,
I'll never fall asleep,
I'll never have a dream,
And wake up wishing you weren't next to me"

And now you got a love,
No one could break apart,
"Just letting you know that you're somewhere still in my heart"

It's fine,
Treat me unkindly so kindly in the middle of the night,
You're right.
It was never perfect maybe it wasn't worth it,
Maybe it was the wrong time,
Or it played how it should,
I never thought you would
Be leaving my side,

But you pulled me again,
Leaving questions in my head when you said

"I'll never find another,
I'll never fall asleep,
I'll never have a dream,
And wake up wishing you weren't next to me"

And now you got a love,
No one could break apart,
"Just letting you know that you're somewhere still in my heart"

Leave me cold and blue while you're  burning red,
Get it off your chest,
Keep it out your head,
Find a way to relieve what we've come to be,
I'll just say it was bad time to keep myself from still believing you said

"I'll never find another,
I'll never fall asleep,
I'll never have a dream,
And wake up wishing you weren't next to me"

And now you got a love,
No one could break apart,
"Just letting you know that you're somewhere still in my heart"

There are many people clearly
Who dislike Michael O Leary
And his company Ryanair
Who offer flights abroad, low fare.
I have to say I am a fan,
I have great respect for the man
For how he built the company
And boosted our economy.
When with Ryanair I have flown
Very few problems have I known.
What I pay for is what I get;
The have never let me down yet!
And they are always improving
With passenger numbers proving
Many like to fly Ryanair
Despite all the bad press out there.
Let's give credit where it is due,
To Ryanair and Michael too.
Ryanair is undoubtedly
A great Irish success story.

outside is sweltering monsoon humidity but no rain prior to now inside the bank is air-conditioned crammed full with Friday late afternoon customers she stands in line wearing short cut-off jeans flip-flops loose-fitting silk fawn chemise hair in pigtails holding wallet thinking to herself the man in me wants to enter through your kitchen door famished fingers itching breathing hard the woman in me wants you to lay me out on supper table have your way gently slobber berry pie laughs aloud to herself as others standing in line look on smile politely too reserved to ask what’s so funny she questions her proclivity to become lesbian more likely she is searching for sincere strong yet somewhat ambivalent male capable of switching roles humoring her playing with flights of imagination

2

the heat is getting to everyone tempers run short irritability prevails birds with open beaks **** in hot breaths comb dry dust blown yards for scraps vast patches of mesquite pale yellow cracked pods strewn along streets sidewalks palo verde trees vibrate hissing buzzing cicada chant he turns water heater off cold water faucet on but it makes no difference mildewed towel restless sleepless wrestled bed sheets in morning sun’s defiant glare merciless he recalls clammy summers in Chicago working downtown riding screechy bumpy “el” train home smell of burnt electrical wiring perspiration beads rolling down arms backs of hands soaking wristwatch band dripping from forehead sticky clinging clothes observing other passenger’s misery discreetly focusing on females knowing they’re suffering from same circumstances thinking about dampness between their thighs and for brief moment escaping oppressive condition in that sweet warped imagining

3

she determines pinot noir unseasonably heavy decides instead on sauvignon blanc opens closet door choosing what to wear in this unrelenting muggy heat

4

more than anything he wants to belong with female partner

5

she imagines a kiss

6

he thinks about a smell

7

she stands undecided in ******* in front of closet mirror 7 outfits scattered on bed she is more intelligent shrewd clever than this foolish display looks inside herself for serenity calm out of the blue she smells it hears it however late the monsoon rains finally arrive she will clothe accordingly

Sleeping in my own lap
Phantom Slender Passenger
Watching greyscale skys
Winding wet green solitude

Look to the mountains
Unattainable misted peaks
Climb onto the unseen face
Natures peak of privacy
Sleeping in my own lap
Phantom Slender Passenger
Watching a travellers slumber
Ghost strokes of matted hair

Materialize, take a seat
Take my hand, take a nap
Take some time, Take it all
Dream of nature's privacy

Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap

Can't talk about, can't write about, a single thing but loving you
Don't mean to schmooze, my shameless muse, always down for aimless cruise
stare through window glass at tunnel lights that zoom straight past our heads
I walk on air, dodge solar flares, ignites my mind when I'm in bed

I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way

And I feel a nostalgia a sense of old security
the same I got when I was young and fell asleep to the TV
underneath the afghan with unwravled threads and fraying ends
hold onto me while I nitpick the same old **** inside my head

I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way

Tell me baby is it true?
Should I ride or die for you?
can I be your passenger?
or do you find me lackluster?
I can't let it be the thought of you and me
scared that our future is tragic history
and every time I find myself ready to shift gears
something holds me back, some aching type of fear

I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way

I miss last summer
And mattresses on the floor
And empty liquor bottles
And coming back for more.

I miss the beginning
How strange it might have seemed
That the adventures I now look back on
Now sit on my mind like fuzzy dreams.

Your car was way too hot for me
Most rides were windows down
Can’t forget falling asleep in your passenger seat
Whenever you drove around.

Each day was nothing different
Laying on that trampoline became routine
But that’s what I loved the most
Like in a movie, we played the scenes.

I miss last summer
And a room without a door
And a front porch covered in people
With the one that I adored.

the pumpkin carriage
floats across wet cobblestone
a vision in white
as light rolls in bands
across its passenger's cheek
a play of presence
and absence. She has
a new corporeal style
a magic dress
what she lacks is
potently invisible
splendour manifest
ball guests assume that
her organizing principle
must be quite regal
including that prince
on whom the strategy works well
he is enchanted
But history’s cruel
royal blood and mop water
are never to mix
when boundaries fail
a bright princess in rags
is polluted indeed
Servant life’s rough but
Actually she’d liked the rats
They’d sung together
so Cinderella
though she looks resplendent
may not fit in well
she’ll look around
at the ladies of the court
carefully because
her dress suggests
a dream which she should try her
hardest to make real

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