called my ex and said...

his sneakers were sort of worn on the bottoms.

he carry around an old soul.
he smelled like my granddad's sheets.
not the granddad i liked most - but the other one.
the one who wore too much cold spice even when he went to his factory job.

but i love him anyway - i think.
this guy - not my granddad. of course i loved my granddad.

i'm kind of shy and he could tell
so all that came from my mouth was 'so they make them like you in LA?'
that wasn't much of a shy line, i guess.

after he laughed at the corniness i realized there was so much more i wanted to say.

i want to break out into 'darling nikki' songs by prince in the middle of hollywood boulevard.
i want to call him names just to make sure he never takes me too serious.
i want him to hate it when the ignorant throw money in the air in the club.
"why make it rain when the world needs sun," is what i'd want him to say.

i want him to be a basketball fan so i can lie about liking the sport then call out the wrong name. i'd say something stupid like "go lebron" when it's probably really derek fisher.

wait.
derek fisher does still play basketball right?

i want to use pick up lines on the third date just because i know they wouldn't have worked in the beginning.
i'd say:

'i'm trying to figure out how to put you on my roster - you will never know the comfort of the bench - i will always need you in the game'

and after he rolls his eyes - and giggles
he'll say

'all you have to do is ask'

now he up in my spot
telling me the things i'm telling him is making him hot
and we're vibing to the roots

being comfortable on this planet we've flown our matching spaceships to.
not equipped with rearview mirrors.

and he runs his fingers along the dried paints on the canvas above my headboard that i long ago forgot existed - and he swallows - and asks: why does he look like me - with green eyes?
and i tell him the truth

i don't know
i think maybe i've dreamed of you before
jealous of the one who posed for this portrait

and now all i want to do is call my ex and say:
now i know why it looks nothing like you.
you wanted to own the universe.
i was content with a couple of planets and a red sunset tattooed on our inner eyelids.