the only way to go back in time
is with a beautiful familiar face,
a good laugh and awkwardness.
went to dinner with an old friend
from Alice's Tea Cup days,
and we have history to say the least,
but she is literally one of the greatest.
she met me in the lobby both times,
which continuously caught me off guard,
but she looked amazing and beautiful,
hasn't aged at all,
and we hugged and it felt good.
she doesn't drink anymore,
so I don't drink either
even though I was nervous
and needing a whiskey for nerves.
we hoped in her yellow Volks,
and she made fun of me
for being so cold in the Minnesota snow,
and I made fun of her for being a terrible driver,
especially with an Edward Gory vanity plate.
I wanted to hold her hand immediately,
but I talked too much about work and bullshit,
which I ended up repeating over dinner
and I became embraced and reconciled
that it added to the lovely of the night.
I knew the songs over the pickles
and I tried to acknowledge the past,
a nightingale in another life,
we'd be a scorching couple,
walking through the broadside of winter
counting grief and disbelief
or just holding hands across the street.
chamber drama,
roses upon roses
and I am happy to be cold with her,
taking photos and sending them to Ruben,
I like the way she moves
and dances through bookstores.
then there were ten things
I didn't do in Minneapolis,
and they include:
posing with Mary Tyler Moore,
checking out the F Scott birth house.
but it is okay because I re-fell in love with her,
freezing and surprising with a killer kiss in the night
on all sides, making it hard to decide
where decisions lie.