i like the way the car lights bleed on
the wet streets,
and the rain on my summer freckles.
i like the windowpane framing my flickering
(like candle light)
but a glance from a boy in a red t-shirt
with a telephone that says, "you look so lost."
is unsettling (i must admit),
maybe it's just the warm yellow flavor of
the backlight in a trendy downtown coffeehouse
that contrasts so sharply with
i like peppermint on my tongue, and the lines on your
lips like grooves in a record.
you might be the kind
of person that offers a girl an umbrella when she looks
like she'll drown in the storm,
i'd never take it.