The ceiling above my bed
Was cracked the night we met
By the storm that turned this
House onto an x axis.
I couldn’t stop staring,
Freckle-counting and still caring
For the constellation-faced
Boy with impeccable taste.
I piled my books up high from the floor,
Fortress walls, like I’d always done before.
Do you remember laying like stars
On the concrete, comparing our scars?
I remember singing Billie Holiday
Classics, and dreaming one day
We’d fall asleep on each other
The way you always said we would.
