“One Hot September Night”

Nicole Burton

I wanted you to be mine…

So that I could have showered you with thousands of kisses

and the little red Chinese packets filled with poems and stickers and folded paper animals.

I wanted to make you homemade cards with my neat photos enclosed

and send you candy and toothbrushes through the mail.

Little love packages.

I wanted to give you all of this.

I wanted to wait to see you every two weeks, almost bursting with anticipation, until we could be together daily.

I was satisfied with talking at midnight on the phone of our past, present, future.

I had free minutes anyway.

We could have laid in bed and laughed again at the silly memories of our childhood.

I would have made you toast had you asked- three slices buttered and cut into triangles.

Accompanied by blue Gatorade and The Simpsons on the television.

Again and again I replay that one September night.

Bundled up in blankets, naked.

You touching my eyelids and circling my lips and chin with your finger.

All the kisses to my tummy.

And having to wrap a towel around to sneak to the bathroom, so that no one would see.

Waking to the bustle of the city’s noon and embracing and kissing in front of all in the middle of the street.

Playing out a scene from an old romance movie…

you off on your bicycle and me back over the bridge to an afternoon of daydreaming of you.

Maybe it was all for my selfish entertainment.

That I had finally found one to be the receiver of my little sentimental gifts-

All the postcards from abroad and my fancy paper poetry and the little Japanese knick-knacks.

Someone to share baby pictures with and random eccentric e-mails and hot cups of jasmine tea.

I thought I was so close to love and sharing…

And even closer to maybe you being mine.

And so I let this delusion become an almost sure reality in my life.

Dreamer dreaming all beautiful possibilities.

There was one thing that I didn’t even ponder…

That perhaps you didn’t want to be mine.