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.