Boy at the Party

1,2,3,4,

letters.

I feel as though I know you,

but I dont.

1, 2, 3, 4,

moments.

Spread thin like the last of the summer stores,

starving.

1,  2,  3,  4,

breaths.

I can taste the empty pale draft,

infecting.

1,   2,   3,   4,

letters.

Do you know me too,

we met.

1,    2,    3,    4,

regrets.

We're just strangers,

don't make us strange.