Thoughts

it's been three years since i've seen you
and really seven years since we've talked
and i find myself thinking you're one of the kindest guys i've ever met
and why weren't we better friends in high school
and why didn't we talk more
and you listen as i tell you about my adventures in Chile
and you ask about my boyfriend and if he has a cute accent
and i want to tell you how nice you are
and how refreshing it is to be in the company of someone like you
someone who is genuine
and genuinely kind
but i feel awkward so i hold back
and you remember my brother's name!
maybe you had a class together once
my thoughts come in a rush
i'm so glad i came tonight
to this impromptu class reunion
people i haven't seen in seven years
and you're the nicest person in the room
i drift away toward another group
thinking i should mingle more with others
it's like a slow waltz, the dance i do
gliding across the room
pirouetting around tables
(as if i had the grace for that)
and what do i find myself coming back to
but you
and not because of any romantic notions
i have a boyfriend, i told you about him right?
but because you're like a breath of fresh air
like breathing in cold, crisp, autumn air
in the midst of a smog-choked city
fresh air in the form of kindness
even if you wanted to hide it, you couldn't
it's permanently etched into your face
permanently illuminated in your eyes