Will You Be My Girlfriend?
I was 19 you were 18. I was already a father and you were already taken. But the universe wants what the universe wants.
The first time you hopped in the passenger seat of my car, single braids with slim fit jeans, we smoked weed all night till right before the sun came up.
Then we hung out the next day, and the day after that and the day after that. Two straight months without missing a beat, till I went away to university hundreds of miles away. Two years past before I saw you again.
But then I saw you again and it’s like time had waited. We held hands and floated through the days till I graduated. We didn’t waste time and moved in that same year.
Then sacrifice. I asked you: “Do you want a regular guy? Because if you, leave now.”
Leave now.