When the mumerade you were and what bands you stanned mattered
your trash television and your up to date musical dictionary
( in one ear and out the other )
Loved me. Autumn your fingers through my hair
We crooned out Confessionals and Dylan and Love as these things were
Handles of Morgan and fancy beer
Handles of Morgan and fancy beer
We argued whether these were drinkable and whether Beatles were anything
Hold my hand - I fall in love - Very often - I still do
When I was younger (15, and 20, and 25, and 30)
I thought that love because the way that light attaches to a girl
( in one year and out the other )
Was very young of me - surely I would grow out of this
This imagining a lifetime with you.
Now between moments when you slip into bed and when I fall asleep
I find that older I still dreams those dreams
I lean into - falling in love - often I still do
That blanket on the lake
The green grass tickling our feet
As I drift fingertips up to your knee and back to you.
Reading passages you have already read me
You remark - you always remark - we should be getting back
To somewhere because I'm getting too much sun
And kissing you too much.
