Do you remember the day you moved in?
You threw a party,
more interested in
your friends
than in your
new roommates.
I decided that I hated you.
You shook my hand
and I faltered.
You asked me about
my pride flag
and I snapped at you,
defensive.
We sat in our
doorways.
You were the only
boy
in this gaggle of girls.
I was there
to keep you up to speed.
It took me a while
to speak to you alone.
You asked me why
I couldn’t stop smiling.
Boys used to tell me
I had a
ugly smile.
Remember when we
rearranged the magnets
on the fridge
into a crossword of
our names.
We were both smiling
then.
You put a
bike lock
on my cupboard
so I hid all your
cutlery and plates
under my bed.
A ceramic dream.
We got lost
somewhere between
yesterday and now.
Long laughter
and coy glances
and dumb smiles
and the weight of
our silence.
I was sad and
drunk and
lonely and
I almost told you
I loved you.
You laughed at me
and told me
to go to bed.
I met someone
new
and I told you
about her and
you didn’t say
much
and you still don’t.
I say hi
now and then.
We small talk about
our crappy flat
or university.
I see you
but I still miss you.








