Saying Goodbye

On a Sunday night, on someone else's porch,

Danika gives you the kind of kiss that you float home on

that casts you as a protagonist in a John Hughes film

It doesn't matter that she's leaving tomorrow

or that you're only telling her now

about how long ago you wish you'd done this

What matters is how lost your fingers are

in the thick sea of blonde hair

crowning her head

Or how good it feels to have your warm face

cradled between her small, cool hands

your bottom lip held between her teeth