She's all grown up, i think.
with a dog she sold to make money for food, once.
and i woke up in her bed with the skylight to the roof above.
a gaping white square of light.
and we were on separate sides.
maybe our ankles brushed
or knees touched.
polite, sleeping.
hey you,
the night is coming to an end.
it feels adult to tell someone you like them but
not to their back as you follow them down the stairs,
your bleached hair pushed back.
And that time i was doubling you on the bike and
your hands rubbed the skin on my back
and i felt
mostly like i was in the best moment of my time.
"you're everywhere" you said, as i plucked a long hair off your ankle.
the night before tomorrow
of every night, is the first one
and the next one
that i want to see you.
that i want to kiss you.
feel your tongue, and pull away to see your smile
and taste the lime in my mouth from your mexican beer.
hey you,
the night is coming to an end
but don't let us go, quite yet.
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