on a thursday night in May,

as i found my way

over to your place,

as the rain slightly dusted my face,

as the Brooklyn sky caved in on itself

in grays of various shades,

i wondered how long this will take.

“fuck” i realized

i’d worn my Jimi Hendrix shirt by mistake

the one i wore on our very first date

i buzzed and walked through the zinging door

you pointed it out right away

and now, what an awkward way

to tell someone you don’t want to stay

wearing the same shades of gray

as you did on the very first day