mister music

our first date was like a dream: dessert, a long walk in a hidden park. we literally talked all night, then made love at sunrise.

there were also stolen kisses between sets. the shutters in your apartment that struggled to hold back the sun. pomegranates on christmas eve.

at your place, the night usually started and ended with music. i learned the arts of the perfectly soulful lullaby and wake up call. it was fun browsing your stacked milk crates--laughing at the kitschy samples and marveling at the classics.

there was a warmth between us, but we never fell in love. never got around to commitment, arguments, misunderstandings.

but you kept on playing me records. maybe that was your way of remembering...