i remember you,
a delusion of grand allure
like lips photoshopped on a magazine.
i remember that slit at the bottom of the door
it let all our hot air out
and a glimpse into our secret
that day after school in the garage
the sad part is,
after our first kiss
i thought i would never ever love you.
the sadder part,
after all of this
is i wish that i had never even tried you.
you and i sat on the ground
against the tire of my mom's '88 mazda
blowing rings illuminated in the afternoon sun
that cast through the dusty window of the garage,
a dirty entry, a new beginning
in broad daylight