First Date

Our first date was a late afternoon walk through orange sidewalks and autumn temples and you were dressed like a fast burning memory. Red means red, turquoise means both rings and jingle jangle hair means faultless flawed gazing at easy teeth. Broke and confident, broke and cloaked in fraud, broke and stumbling on a free walk and nothing bought comes close. Old, cold sidewalks from distant dreams left unnoticed and there’s nothing but quick empty walks with pretty girls who laugh at marijuana birthdays and skeleton peepholes. I’m sweaty and can’t remember a word I’ve said and I remember it all, every sneaky glance at the curve of your strut and the wham boom buzz of heart pang adolescence and I wouldn’t miss any of it, not even for more.