maybe it could've been
constant, us and you and
you and the i's i don't cross.

we'd spend our
summer nights
in wet parking lots
crawling to the stars, and

i would make you talk in
french verb conjugations
just to watch you dip a
croissant into my morning
cup of coffee.

foreign lovers,
we'd listen to cheap songs
found in old record stores
and pretend like we knew all the
words, even though your voice
would be off-pitch,

and then mine would join yours
and we'd collapse into bed sheets,
forget each other for awhile and
wake up when the sun was down.

and we'd do it all over again,
past present participle, but darling
i was never good at holding on
and you were always too good at
running away.