<3

oakland twinkles below
me like a sixteen year
old girl's prom dress.
on a sunday, the pacific
bleeds the sky blue.
gripped to the horizon's torso,
i tell this city my secrets
which are delivered
on the backs of whispers
as we break the thickness of 3 a.m.
with the steel tip of a speeding civic.
my hands, create curved galaxies
from the passenger's side seat:
soaking my palms in condensation.
i pin down this memory
with the longing and promise
one gives to her lover
as he dresses to return to his wife.

tonight will remember my name.