fragments of a friday night

i close my eyes but i can still see you across the crowded room,

remember how you told me that my superpower was making people feel important,

that if the bar didn’t have a jukebox, i was at the wrong bar.

remember how you tasted like nothing when i kissed you,

but your aftertaste was sweetbitter.

i believe a world is out there where the weekend starts on thursday,

everyone signs birthday cards: with love and light,

my neck is made of crystals,

and i always feel pretty.

late at night, i walk a grid and watch the people i love move like dots on a map,

i picture what they’re doing like little movie scenes

until i remember it’s the wrong way home.

i live in a world where taxis drive backwards,

right into moments where we never have to say goodbye.

it’s crazy how often we collide here.