your busted up subaru
in three inches of snow
you took me drifting
through the abandoned streets
of our little town
your car has always been
a little bit broken
it makes noises it shouldn’t
old and run through
the polar bear plush we bought
at the fruit market
sits on your dashboard
and it wasn’t a date
but if you wanted to call it one
I would never argue
it felt like a date
when my legs were wrapped
around your torso
and we were flying
down the grassy hillside
on my blue plastic sled
it felt like a date
sitting on a bench
under a balcony
downtown in the dark
eating an $11 rotisserie chicken
with plastic forks
while it was raining
it felt like a date
when you called me pretty
and said you like
the way I do my hair now
you told me last night
that you’d be a shitty boyfriend
that you’re scared
that you believe something will fail
before it even starts
I told you to have patience
in this epidemic of loneliness
I see you