she wanted coffee, so we packed up all of our stuff and headed to a diner a couple miles away; we got a booth that looked off into the silver midday, and started spilling ramblings about everything: she'd twirl her hair, wander around subjects on tangents; i'd chug cups of caffeine like whiskey, throw a couple of dumb comments about the weather and that movie we saw a couple nights ago; she'd ask me about how i slept, i'd ask her about her classes—digress a moment, lean over the table, mumble something corny, give her a peck on the cheek—and she'd push it to the side, (or dismiss it to talk about me,) and next thing we'd know, we're offering absolutes we don't believe about how we're gonna reinvent the sistine chapel and outlive picasso, and how it's just a matter of time until we're famous and drowning in riches; then one of us snaps to reality and an understanding silence molds between the two of us as we fall back into this booth with two kids too old to still have hope but too young to let it finally go
YOU ARE READING
EUPHEMISM
Poesía❝paint me like you paint the ocean, capture me in your favorite picture, sing me like an anthem, and draw me in the sand.❞ a series of vignettes where a boy tells his coming of age through love, want, and proclamations
