Breadcrumb #242


I loved when we spoke of our
mutual love of movie previews,
starwars and superman shit, 
films and comics, you read, 
and shared and me,
a writer, and you, a hungry reader,
I fell for you mad.

I fell when you lent me your first
editions of superman and neil gaiman.
I fell when you kissed me so hard
one november night, second date and we
had too many sharp upon sharp holiday cocktails,
thanksgiving's eve, and so,
the streets were our own, yet, in our shared,
brooklyn way, silent and equally alive, 
we struck up some bright christmas
lights and nature blessed our romance with a speckle of
first snow, and no pedestrians in sight, 
bk streets our very own snow globe, and your hand in my hair,
all gentle, yet grasping, and
your arm pulling my pelvis into yours, the
the forces that force us to attempt a
flight of heart alongside an other, 
again and again, after too many falls, 
that night, the force, awakened.

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