i keep dreaming of you and i in an ice cream parlor
it's 1956 and your collar is crooked
our sundae has two spoons, long
like branches of an willow, dipping into
two ice cream scoops like the moon into the clouds

there's chocolate smudged on your upper lip
and i wipe lovingly away with a cloth napkin
leaning a bit too close with an insecure smile
oh god i wish it were that easy
but when i wake up i'm still vying for your attention
leaning too far over the handles of my bike and eating
sixteen cupcakes in one sitting

i'm still on tiptoes walking by the jukebox
head down as i see your arms around another girl,
the smell of your james dean jacket
lingering around the red vinyl booth
with the big springs poking through

maybe one day it will be my bony shoulder
your arm lays on, my blushing cheeks
my lace and chiffon left with wrinkles
unironable and spelling your name

but i'm still stuck pouring your coffee
writing love poems out back by the dumpsters
clutching ivory napkins you used to wipe your lips
nesting it in my pale palm with the bulging veins,
wishing it was my lips you had used instead

head propped against a sweaty palm
on a muggy june afternoon; air thick with
water and knowledge and lust.
hair pulled into a lazy pony-tail
limp blonde locks curling at the end (a flourish to a love letter)
tired from years of straining not to be neglected
left hand slips quietly into the
pocket of your old sweatpants,
a sight unseen by all but the likes of me.
i am the ever watchful parent of the door
as their child is on a first date,
hands wringing as i glance toward you for the
sixth... seventh. time in one minute

my tongue's bloody from all the words i've
battled to keep from you, the god of war,
my enyo, destructor of cities, reigning supreme over
me