This is about that time we kissed
In the bathroom stall
At the back of the mall
But you won’t go home and
Tell all your friends about this.
I am your most recent conquest
And I have all the privacy
of an abandoned battlefield
Left to walk home alone
While the light begins to gather
it’s skirt around it’s ankles
and retreat across the sky
Like the loser In a fight it had no hope to win
But can‘t help but hoping anyway.
The skittering of my untied shoelace across the pavement
As I kick up dust on the back road home
Brazenly whispers to that distant lady
Of empathy and understanding.
What the hell was I thinking?
More like, what the hell were you thinking?
For a few minutes
alone with you and your approaching steps
Echoing off the grey linoleum
I thought maybe I knew.
I must have thought the touch of your hand
was a signal
And your lips typed out some kind of promise
When you pressed them to mine
I must have thought it meant you
thought I mattered enough to you
for this to be something
more than another secret
that I don’t need to be told not to tell
Or another thing for you to forget
Like your homework, or the number
Of this week’s girl
But I must have misinterpreted the signals
read between the wrong lines
Or wanted too much
To be the one you were proud of
In the locker room Monday morning.