Meet me at the corner
of 20 and 11th street.
Greet me with a hug that’s been long waited.
I’ll be sitting on the curb, with a book in hand,
waiting for your smile, your hello again.
We can go walking, or to a museum,
just meet me at the corner.
We can be just friends.
We can go to the park, or go bowling at night,
to the movies or the mall, anything you’d like.
Just please, meet me. I’ve been dying to see your face.
20th & 11, it seems like a safe meeting place.
We could make fun of the ladies, with their rat-sized-dogs,
and the men who are old, and dress like their sons.
I could find a kite or two, and they could soar to the clouds.
It’d be fun, don’t you think?
It’s just a corner, just something solid and sound.
So, won’t you meet me?
Words don’t even have to be said.
We could pretend to be strangers, and just walk on past the bend.