star

The stars have yet to fall from the sky.
They cling to the velvety darkness above them, little silver pinpricks, listening for their cue,
for when they can explode in a burst of white-hot magnificence
to lead the way to our cabins

When you look at me like that I feel dumb –
pretending you didn't make me weak in the knees.
Pretending I didn't feel them, the zaps of electricity 
crackling in your laugh.
Pretending I was ever immune
to you.

It'll be hard to write this poem because
I might cry
when the words become jumbled memories
nostalgia pouring out of the depths of my mind and unfolding on a blinding-white computer screen

Hi
I haven't seen you in a while
How are you doing
I don't think we ever really talkedWe talked so much
We used to talk every dayIt wasn't anything important thoughYou still don't know why I did what I didIt's fine

I was in the car, riding shotgun
listening to a song that sounded like summer
like tires rolling over hot asphalt
like mud stuck to the bottom of a murky pond
like a brain freeze from the coveted chill of ice cream