Vietnamese noodles in the hot sun,
Black mascara that always seemed to run.
You pushing my debit card away from the check as I admired the decor,
So I would know that you wanted me to be only yours.
Blisters on the bottom of my feet,
You carrying me through the parking garage on NYE.
Eight cuban coffees to last the week,
Two Buffalo Trace whiskeys neat.
Sweaty palms walking through Wynwood,
We would have lived in those murals if we could.
Polaroid shots of a red dress in the Vizcaya maze,
Skype dates that would go into the next day.
Thick blueberry pancakes at that place around the corner from my apartment in the city,
You sitting on your bed before a night out in Miami watching me get ready.
2 AM stops at the art deco Walgreens in North Bay,
Drunkenly grabbing every snack in sight to make it back to Delray.
A rushed kiss at curbside check-in as I almost missed my flight,
Who knew that would be the last time we would ever be in each other’s sight?