7 seconds goes by in a blink
and I say something to explain so you don't have to worry
I'm drinking water like it's going to stop me
from waking up with a hangover heart
The heavy fog sits on the bridge of your nose
and the back of your hand is pressed against my cheek
I'm looking up into your eyes between kisses and I'm seeing unfamiliarity
I know it’s you but it's still enough to make me look again
I've tried to write this poem 7 different ways and it will never be enough
I've even tried to not write it
but that doesn't work either
So the best I can do is this:
The universe hands me a diner mint from the pocket of my coat
and it tastes different
The kind of different that surprises you
The kind that tastes like your lips in a parking lot at 2am
I run my finger across the condensation on the inside of the car window
and I’m afraid I’ll tear the centre console from your mother’s car
Just to get to the heart of you
Droplets of rain sit on the outside of the glass and I want to drink them in
I want to wear them like crystals in my hair
There might be more oxygen among the blinking lights and falling coins
but I’m fairly certain you are the only reason I’m breathing easier
It's diner mint different
and I'm convinced I could live off this
I'm convinced if I hold tight enough
your arms will come searching for my hands
because they don't want to walk across the asphalt of life without them
Because every parking lot you walk through without my hands
will make your arms ache
Every casino you visit you’ll imagine looking up
and seeing me across the room next to the penny slots
Every headlight shone on a rainy windshield
you'll see a flash of me in the passenger seat with my boots off
Don't think you shoulder this alone
While this is happening to you
Know that I won't be able to get on a highway ramp
without seeing your goodbye arm out the window
My pockets will be full of empty diner mint wrappers until I see you again