we hung out through
swift January nights
when the air
is colder than
a homeless man's
card board box
in alaska.
pelle pelle jackets
and north face gear
scrawled on the floor
as we drank from
smooth Corona bottles
with salt fizzing down then back up.
and a slice of lime.
the bottles fell out the window
to save our dreams,
remember that time we smoked
weed for the first time in your apartment
with your brother playing detective
in the next room. we had
eyes like Heinz.
copyright 2004 kristina lopez
