I don’t like giving you goodbyes
that fade too fast before my eyes,
so before I crash, I close them once,
and if I’m dreaming, pinch me twice,
then I open them to empty fields
where once were sparks and Ferris wheels,
but now lay the reminders of
convos, cafes, and diners, love,
and my reflection in your waves—
that open sky, that ocean gaze.
But life fills up your calendar
and your hair fills with lavender,
but the cotton candy counterfeit
could never overpower it
or your starry stares you throw—
I recall them all, and there you go,
fending off Ferris wheel glow
when you care to ever say hello.
Because when carnivals and carousels
get caught up your hair as well,
how could I, at this fair, say farewell?
The fairest of the fair will tell—
and you’ve got that in spades, my dear,
For every day new traits appear.
So if you’re running late, it’s clear
I’ll be okay, just waiting here.
