You / Abroad

It’s another hot, sticky night, and the moon is nearly full.
You can’t hear the city over all the window units humming.
Everyone is restless, flammable.

And I wonder where you are.

There was something about you being only a mile away.
There is something about you being a thousand miles away.

I keep thinking about your back.
Breathing.
I had never really seen you sleep. Wasn’t sure if you did.

And I keep thinking about when I turned around in the museum and suddenly you were there.
And the way the acoustics made me turn red.

And the way you order. And sweet corn.
And the history you solicited, though all I could hear was castles and conquistadors.

And how I’ll never give you coffee again.

I would like to sing with you again. Yes, I’d like that very much.
I felt shy, but the water was warm. And your hands danced.

I hope you have kind dreams.
And I hope sometimes you think of these things.
And I hope that they also remind you of me.