You say, you want nothing more than to kiss me,
and I say, please turn off your damned phone.
Don’t you realize you’re missing the stars?
They’re trying to make a conversation with us
with winks and twinkles and hazy introductions.
This isn’t a romance novel
and it’s not a rodeo either.
It’s just another night of breathing and
of panoramic speculations of the galaxy
and of summer.