You asked me once why only lovers kiss—
And turned to me with something in your eye;
I pulled away, but now I reminisce
And wonder if I’d like it if you’d tried.
For years, he’s lived on campus though he’s not
Affiliated there in any way– it leads out
To the corner of the junction to the lot
Where bikers park and lovers whisper to the river
That they’ll stay.
At twenty, my grandfather tried a cigarette,
Twirling it between his fingers, watching it
Paint its temporary dance.
To think there was a time in which I knew
I felt this way, a rush too lonesome for
The joyous pain that they all seem to sell,
A constant doubt that it was real, a flame,
In memory of Soverskan på Oknö
He watched as his sister’s dimpled knuckles
Were filled with slender threads of bone
If by chance I found myself alone,
I would convince myself that I was free;