trouble was: 6:53am & i didn’t know how to get back to potsdam. i’ll show you which train to take. she blinked. we closed the door on the party & stepped into sunday, empty berlin. it drizzled blue dawn. when was the last time you were in america by the way? 10 months ago i visited my sister in new york, she buttoned her pea coat, other than that, it’s been 2 years. i touched her lip, then the small of her back, how’d you get those rain drops stuck under your skin? we turned a corner.
if there had been tread on my sneakers, they would have squeaked on the wet pavement. sometimes i can’t remember the words to my favorite song, she took my hand. the train station was across the street. i pulled her from under the awning, we belong in a movie, & let my nose rest on hers. take this line all the way to the end. i lit a lucky strike, i wonder if my dad ever felt this way, i hope so. we walked down our own flights of stairs & stood facing each other from our platforms. i’m less than amazing, you know? she jammed her hands in her pockets, her irises retreated to ovals of white & dark blue halos. i think i’d like to be in love with you for a long time
Taylor Jacob Pate is the author of shoegazers and the editor of smoking glue gun magazine.
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