2oo9:

It’s been at least twelve days since

I told you that I wasn’t yours to fuck around with

And it’s been at least twelve days since I told you

That you made me feel like nothing

But even now;

Fifteen days later to be exact,

I still miss the way that you held the small of my back

When you kissed me on the nose

And I loved the way you brushed my hair to the side

Just so you could get a better look

At my brown eyes

And I still laugh when I think of the time when

you took me back to that coffee shop in Penn Station

And you almost spit out your tea when

I told you that

I loved you.

So promise me this:

If you ever find yourself back in that little café again

With some other boy years from now

Waiting on his train to whisk him home

I want you to remember the time when you

Parted my hair to the right and said,

“Wow, you have such beautiful eyes,”

To which I replied,

“Thank you.”