One That Got Away

I'm shivering, 

you're in my driveway and it's cold.

Why were we even driving?

Fear was exciting with you,

I practiced the sweater I'm in for hours.

We permeate downtown's pores and 

every shadow is graced by your smile and

dark eyes, sapphire eclipsed by godless obsidian.

I can't look for too long,

I forget if I'm looking at a deer or a boy.

I've been here before but 

I haven't really been until now -

my heart is virgin and alert.

I think anyone else would be so angry with a "maybe" that lasted this long,

but that's how I knew you were my muse.

You take out our ten dollars to light

as we stare ahead and star-talk.

Static in my eyes, static in my mouth,

I can see snowy television on you too.

I said I wouldn't reference this but 

it's how we were both made to speak.

He knows what I think about.

Too much for five minutes 

my head is craned skyward but 

I'm still looking at you, 

your gaze only shifted planes.

Your fingers are so strong around mine I think they're the jail of my dreams.

My adolescence would end with you,

the very last dream

the tremendous effect of the light of the cosmos.

I wondered if ever so much as glimmered to you.