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)

face,

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

my expression.

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,

but

i'd never take it.