Dandelion

That afternoon
you locked the door
giggling nervously
for a man of your age

I remember thinking
how innocent it was
to hear joy leave you
unmarred by day jobs
and the black hum of bills
shaking their totals

we couldn’t remember
what was to be said
to each other
choosing instead
to stack frantic piles
of love upon lips

there’s something beautiful
about that kind of urgency
bursting through a quiet room

and the truth is
I still picture it

I think of you
every time I see a weed
growing from cracks in
broken concrete

I think of thick roots
tangling mine