I have to thank you for dancing on tables In the basement of Brock. I took your hand and we rose above the sea of sweaty faces. You flashed me a grin of red lips and I twirled you around the dance floor of Stages, Laughing in the summer crowd. Hidden coats stuffed under cushions and above tiles Were...

We sit on the couch in your apartment and the clock pushes August away, hands squeezing the thick air to rain.   Two hours left before my bus back to Kingston and we’re still dragging  songs into the last Spotify playlist we’ll make together. You slide    into a black hoodie and Icona Pop swells through...