our towns, close.

I’ve lived in a town dotted close on the map to the town where you reside. We may have frequented the same coffeeshop on the outskirts of our towns. We may have shared a word or two in line for a bagel. You may have showed me the cover of the book you were planning on reading for free on your daily visits. I may have read it already.

You may have stopped by for tea on your way through my town to yours after being out at shops looking for a silly hat to wear or shoes. I may have kissed you. You may have liked it.

I may have allowed you to sleep next to me because it was getting late and your town seemed like a far off destination. We may have stared at one another in sleep. We may have ordered breakfast from the coffeeshop.

We may have become friends who listened to songs and cried because they meant something. I may have listened to stories that you told and thought they were brilliant. We may have moved in closer proximity to one another’s town, but not the same one.

I am afraid to move.
You are afraid to move.
We decide to sleep it off.