special friends

here is my elaborate plan. here is my plan i concocted in secret.

(here is the plan that demanded my heartbreak, because i dreamed of something that just couldn't be.)

friday night, we dress to kill. we ride to rehearsal. mozart. shill.

we play, real gay, for hot ostinato. we ride away, broad street mufflers staccato.

and then my car is at your house. in my car is an overnight bag.

(a change of clothes in a backpack, floss and a toothbrush. my tablet computer.)

we fall asleep watching kirk and spock. we retire at midnight, staying close to the clock.

my violin sits demurely in your disheveled mudroom area. my several cases, basket spaces, absorb the infinite charm of your full-contingency car backseat; your double-booked pre-parea.

we wake up. we hang out. i say, should i go? you say, if you like - i won't say it hurts me so.

you give me a sweater to don as i leave. it's brown and it's heathered, a baggy long-sleeve.

i'll see you tomorrow, i promise with a salute.

you look at me in your sweater. you know i look cute.

and tomorrow, i return it. no joke, just a while.

just for what only you know. just for that perfect smile.

and even when it doesn't work, when none of it comes true, you still look at me with a patient face - the face of i love you.

you might say, oh, alright, i guess. you might not have wanted me to confess. and i didn't do it just to proclude your boundaries. i did it because i'm scared, and i'm in that safe-and-sound hurry.

if i saw you strolling up the hall, walking like it's not yet winter but fall, i'd want to hug you immediately. i wouldn't hardly even wait to see.

maybe you get it. maybe you know. maybe you say, oh, honey, let go.

the one thing i can understand is that someone has to love you. i think of family always first, but buddy - doesn't somebody love you?

i can't be the first to act out this way. i can't be the sole with a crush. there have to be other young people you know, whose hearts you've likewise turned to mush.

but if there aren't - but if i am - then surely you have to see. surely this illustrates the effect you have, by your skin and your nails and your teeth.

alex, alex, be my pal- ex, you're gone, you're out, you're done. you blew it, by which i mean, i fucked it up.

i'm in love with a double-reed who can't play the clarinet. i'm in love with a well-rounded citizen. i'm in love because i let myself fall over heels. i'm in love because i couldn't keep it a secret.