he knows the

depth at which my foot

should sink when i 

come to him & 

he does it well

he greets me only

when im looking

and takes my coat

at the door

i only know one song

in the shower & he plays it 

every time

we go on short walks

when we need to 

just because we have to 

two boys in a trench coat

two kings with one million fingers

i wonder where the worm in him hides

when i am away

he’s started to 

call me booker

& i haven’t yet given him a name

but i call him anyway

i am always yellow

next to his flames &

i’m never too hot

a text in the morning

my first sip of oj

did the house number change ?

how far down the block is it

do we stop at the 1/2 stolen 

bike before we turn around ?

its surreal to turn the faucet off when

the bath hasn’t filled but the

mirrors fogged up

i got my homework done & went to bed

we missed the concert but they would’ve 

just played the same song i already

know on repeat over & over

our fingers in each other again