kissing you at the bus stop
the rain had been threatening all day
making good on its promise briefly at the bus stop
you leaned back against the brick wall on 10th Ave
(“bobby & gabby 4ever”)
so I could kiss you / slide my hands
through your hair from the nape of your neck
to the top of your head
“you should kiss her,” you said, because
you’re the kind of person who would say that
I was more than content in that moment
to drink in the blue of your eyes
as the soft rain wetted your lips
12 April 2012
Manhattan
/ / /
It’s National Poetry Writing Month! A poem a day, each day in April.
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