we passed that conversation back and forth
when you left it felt like defeat and i don’t know why. it had grown dark outside as we passed that conversation back and forth between our fine fingers like the fragile pages of a composition notebook filled with biological references and sexual jokes. making fun of you, making fun of me. if you don’t think i’m cute, why are you hanging around? your excuse is empty in your big hands like your apple juice container. and if you dig me i couldn’t guess the reason why. the sky is dark now. i should close my biology book and go to the gym. i didn’t sleep very much last night, so i’ve got no witty excuses, but i don’t want you to fall back upstairs and into someone else’s dream. it snowed last night but it is too dark now to see it. later, around twelve thirty, i close my biology book and try to go to bed. but you’re a dream that stretches like a shadow across my empty bedroom wall. if you keep me up late enough with promises, maybe i’ll wake up soon to find that they’ve come true.
