June 4, 2012
I felt like a middle school boy asking a girl to the 8th grade dance
The note I slipped through the gills in your locker gave simple instructions:
Klipspringer for yes, Cat for no.

I was a slave to my phone, every email, every call: it all made me jump
I was in a nervous frenzy all day, waiting for your response like my mother as a teenager, waiting over the phone
I could feel the beat being skipped in my chest when it finally buzzed with a message from you


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