Pick a song from that mixed CD I gave you, two summers ago.
Think about soft kisses tracing your collarbone
Where I once stole a glance
droplets pooling in the little hollow
of your neck.
That hot hot day
we took a packed train together.
(Because you are so much taller than me)
Play that song on
Think about soap bubbles that I shall blow
oh from you, back to you.
And late night telephone conversations
Of tales you’ll tell me
from Nothing to Everything
and all the Things in Between.
Like lost pet hamsters;
Like the perfection that is sleeping in
on a cold rainy morning,
How I would wake up smiling.
Because your voice was the last thing I heard
So listen again,
should that song end,
think of One Day,