whole foods on a friday afternoon

so that's how it is - 4:30 on a Friday; February, you walk through the glass sliding doors with an odd gait and your left arm appears gimp. adorable and maybe shy or maybe just ignoring me the thing i have for tall guys, like skipping school and making out on the top of the galleria parking lot. you can reach the top shelf at grocery stores, grab the stash in the back, reach through the middle of engines. I need you. Hover over me. light bulbs, cats out of trees - no need for the fire department with arms like that, longer than my legs, reach down and around the back. Chubby face for such a lanky guy. i had 'marry me' at first sight.
why do I always have to come up with stupid questions for "please love me", like 'watch out for those birds', or 'what are you reading?'
cause I don't care about memoirs, cars, latest fashion, who's suing who in Hollywood, the recent American Horror Story - maybe Sherlock Holmes - I miss my stupid friends in Houston - aging, overweight, husbands in tech industries or developing cancer. half of them still single and stoned in cheap 1 bedroom apartments of gentrifying areas where gay bookstores are being shut down. Sleezy gay bars become coffee houses where young hipster Christians sit bible study just a few feet from the back patio where men in chains lurked, needing that instant gratification - that drunken 'love me' - making out beneath one tree, that odd tree which grew on the back patio; wrapping around each other, kissing, revealing sexual tendencies... then AIDS got around, taking half of them out...
those tiny apartments tucked away beneath new condos four stories high and blocking out the sun in the yard, the one patch of grass just past the 8 space parking lot, a patch just big enough for a birdsplash and dog to poop... a few warehouses still remain, tucked beneath the I-10 freeway just along the edge of downtown, the way the freeways encase it - I-10 to the south, 45 on the west, 59 on the east.
in that warehouse, the old coffee grounds, near Wayne's place of warehouse parties and me arguing with a punk rock guy, staring at I-10 - we throw bottles, knowing if we jumped into his car, bummed gas, we could drive 3 states over to the beach, the end of the country on the west...

so that's how it is? you're so tall and beautiful , I ask stupid questions and you walk away. I couldn't even discern the exact color of your eyes; kinda green or hazel or something stupid. (I've never met you and feel as if you've already dumped me)...
come back to me
i dare you
my high school dream
(i've finally found you)