the two of us on repeat (over and over again)
for brandon and beth april 20th, 2013 the two of us on repeat (over and over again)
I wow me in to the wee hours after you text i’ll call after i call let’s chat on repeat on repeat see you back here tomorrow see you back here tomorrow
this illicit affair carried over ones and zeroes zeroes and ones breaking letters down to electrons sending each on a parabola arcing near-intercontinental eros’ arrows ricocheting off satellites, aiming unabashedly unashamedly unequivocally for your heart
let’s wow, k?
godspeed, little flirt just take the ten to the fifteen hit the seventy in u.t. use the seventy-six to get to eighty east and stay on the eighty and stay on the eighty and stay on the eighty forever until you can take the ninety-five north into my arms
i have to meet this girl
II i’m not a weird internet guy i swear NO CREEPING Departures become Arrivals —the white zone is for the loading and unloading of passengers only— teal blue scarf (is that the atlantic) round black backpack (brimming saccharine love letters) username limo rides this way how long has he had on that backpack look at that gorgeous gummy smile he. is. so. short.
the magnolias are in bloom blossoming two fold to unfold items two: 1) the first of many tuna tartares (whichever table they may land on) 2) our first and last fifty dollar bottle of wine swish swish sniff sniff what year is this? two legs and two legs yes, the legs are very nice
wow second closet kiss tick tick of a square white egg timer drowned by thump thump of our hearts BRING OUT THE BRASS BAND little white countdown with the little red dot (though the mint gum was cleared away) still rests on the shoe rack of every gaze every kiss every wow every time my heart wrapped around yours
i have to move here.
i am giving this the green light cause i have to cause i need to kanpai, all bottles up bottoms up a solo that is inhaling beer to the tune of clinking red cups thanks so much for having us
we conquer the couch with mushrooms, shrimp, and eggplant to the tune of ladybug picnic over and over and over again over and over and over again
III blur blur to boston sopping up rain sopping up lobster bake sopping up hot butter and beer and cover band oldies the whole bar can croon to
this $20 dress this black, cotton $20 dress that is everything so much depends on a $20 dress
crafted from homemade pumpkin ice cream on the side of the road woven on a picnic table loom with a view of a labor day late summer forest
one bowl two spoons
IV just take ninety west to eighty west and stay on the eighty and stay on the eighty and stay on the eighty forever use the seventy-six to hit seventy in u.t. take the fifteen until you can take the ten into my arms
this. this here is a low point a desperate moment the hot heat of guilt on the back of my neck and a twinge of if-only-i-had things-were-going-so-well- until-i
i am resolved i can make it through this i can do this alone i can i can’t the green and white quilt quietly sobs back to me suddenly unexpectedly timely, fully, perfectly arms encompassed kiss cheek i was resolved to be without this now i know i can do this forever
V christmas morning (unknowingly) you have sealed your fate
we are bringing california sunshine, portland rainwater, and new england colors straight to tokyo it’s all in the carry-on’s what we don’t already/always carry in our pockets
we are strangers in a strange land we’ll find this together we’ll do this together
now we are transformed we become cold cold beer fast trains that green canvas coat and peanuts villages and mountains speeding past that green canvas coat hot hot water for soaking that green canvas coat fish and ramen at the end of chopstick after chopstick after chopstick
navigating a clear plastic umbrella graveyard (for hidden japanese treasure) your hair creating puddles with boston rainwater on this eternal cafe table that same hair on a sea of straight black a beautiful blonde boat bobbing beneath cherry blossom sky red sky at night, sailors’ delight
she. is. beautiful.
finally a shabby blue tarp dinosaur bone beacon we. have. arrived.
now, now that green canvas coat left breast pocket
now we are transformed we become this magic, this secret we keep a private joy tucked safely in our wells up in our hearts and eyes overbrims and pours out in smiles and hand squeezes and knowing looks i want to shout from rooftops looking at you is shouting from rooftops
VI now. this. today. forever. we are on repeat you and i me and you we are weekend pho via victory the same lobster bake cover band oldies on the radio the same boston rainwater on japenese cafe tables pooling around oversized bowls, chopsticks, and asian spoons me in a $20 black cotton dress, teal blue scarf you with your black round backpack, that green canvas coat looking at you is shouting from rooftops wow wow tonight a square white egg timer that lets us know when it’s time to come home
i’ll cut onions pass me a beer saute mushrooms, will you here’s your white wine stemless
this. this here. right here. two of us on repeat the two of us on repeat over and over again over and over the two of us on repeat the two of us forever us us.
