Do you remember your pirate,
in a skull bandanna, sitting
next to you in the toothpaste aisle.
You told me you were scared, and
I said I was scared of not trying.
Back then things were simple.
I loved the way you wore work boots.
I loved your back on the wooden floor,
how you drew circles on my delicate
shoulder bones.
We of course had no plan,
enjoying torrential rains
and back up’s on I-95.
I remember your blue winter vest now
as I sleep horizontal to Lake Michigan and
wonder who’s inch of breathe you are sharing
tonight in our small New England town.
in a skull bandanna, sitting
next to you in the toothpaste aisle.
You told me you were scared, and
I said I was scared of not trying.
Back then things were simple.
I loved the way you wore work boots.
I loved your back on the wooden floor,
how you drew circles on my delicate
shoulder bones.
We of course had no plan,
enjoying torrential rains
and back up’s on I-95.
I remember your blue winter vest now
as I sleep horizontal to Lake Michigan and
wonder who’s inch of breathe you are sharing
tonight in our small New England town.
