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Poem:

I wrote you,

About all the sweet things,

Rooftops in San Francisco,

Golden gate Red against surfers blues,
Gucci swatches and black sand beaches,

Denim, embroidered, bleached, and teased.

I wrote you,

About style.

It’s in the eye, not the pocket. 

I wrote you,

About pizza boxes, 26 inches

Covered in poems, in love notes

What is not done with love,

Is only illusion.

And that’s why I wrote you,

To remind you of these things.

Sweet things.