the mistake

the mistake

late night circles and squares
eyes blurred by oily lenses
and a head too filled
with hearts and stars
to remember to smile

end it all
before cheeks get too warm
lightly brushing fingertips
are a wonderful secret
that i must hide
from you (has anyone ever
written a poem about you?)

the first smile of the new year
might be the last
unless i can hold
the clouds in open arms