he takes you out for coffee
after graduation.
which is nice,
you remind yourself.
it’s nice.

he sips
you-colored coffee
from his cup
and grimaces-
it’s strong
-er than he
anticipated.

he asks you to remind him
what you’re planning on
majoring in again.

you could tell him.
you could tell him that
you’re going to study
the way the stars
paint the walls
of the universe
with streaks of light
and how you try
to find beauty
in the
black and blue.

you could tell him
that you’re going
to study that
cosmic dance
that the galaxies
are entwined in
and how the universe
guides her children
with the gentle hands
of
gravity
and respect.

you could tell him why.
you could tell him about
the way you’d watch
the sky shift
and wonder
why it did that
when you were
laying on your back
in the yard outside
to escape the screaming
inside.

you could tell him
that it’s your way
of figuring that
everything happens
for a reason.
that you’re sort of
searching for
the reason he happened
to you.

but you don’t
tell him.

you mumble
physics
under your breath

he takes one more sip
of the you-colored coffee
grimaces
shrugs
and that’s the end
of that.