Come. Stay. Lose.

After all, is the world
not so beautiful?

Like that week I got a hotel room right above the pool.
And my room smelled like chlorine
and your skin smelled like chlorine
and we didn't care.
You spilled orange juice on my
computer, and for years, the space bar stuck
and after every word
I thought of [space] you. And that night

we tried to sneak into the park across the street
to watch the moon, and maybe kiss

but the gates were locked
so we settled for the field behind my house, and
laughed when the neighbors walked past,
because we knew they thought
we were [space] fucking.

Like that time the stars bent ‘round the mountains
crashed about the desert
and crept to your face

watched me dance
up the stairs, let it be known that
I would think of you;

but I would
not [space] wait, or count on them to
settle back into the caves
above.

Or that time
so many years later
that a man I did not know
smiled at something I could not see
asked me a question, and after every word
I thought of [space] you.