trouvaille and sunlight

jersey number two

i heard you liked me.
so why did we take it so lightly?

i told my best friend about you,
she caught you looking at me, too.

isn't it pretty to think?
that you never told me,
and i didn't tell you either?

my first butterflies and blues,
my first time loving mondays, too.

it felt like it was fall the whole year
and you were all i thought about.

it made me feel
the hanging gardens of Babylon,
nevermind where its whereabouts.

isn't it vivid in your head?
we were young,
we were not mostly dead,
and you chose my birthday
as your jersey number instead.

wrapped it like a heavy bag,
a keychain hanging
in the four chambers,
and i'd still see it blur.

i begged in my mind to stop your games,
i can't tell it by your gaze.
i used to call what's ours a maze.

we missed the bus again,
that's what we do.

now it's all funny in my head.
when it used to be so clear.

tell me what made us so dense?

in the back of your mind,
you loved my cologne.

it was hard to tell,
but i liked you all along.

what happened to me,
and what happened to you,
could have happened differently
and it could've had patterns, too.

we might have been tongue-tied
at the constellations of
these eyes.