You had me at daylight savings, 

at the risk of sounding too high 

                maintenance. You had me at matinee, 

                how fleeting was a way to chronicle 

                               the drapes, rays, and our looming 

                               insurrection. If you must know, it 

               wasn’t glamorous when I was yours 

               truly for the first time that winter was 

full of antics and keepsakes – the swindle 

of child lock and of wanting to escape to 

                nowhere better. You had me at foolproof 

                though those weren’t the words we used. 

                                    Honestly, half the time words weren’t that 

                                    at all. Seemed like hints at nutrition, from 

                here, like the sparks off the tips of a bonfire, 

                the splendor of s’mores and carnival funnel 

cake. You had me at for real as in the hours 

we spent flabbergasted during scenes where 

                 our desires felt derivative. Our bewilderment 

                  so in sync we’d linger there in the pitch black, 

                                    after the credits had scrolled their way 

                                    back to the clouds our minds were last.