seven.
seven pairs of khaki pants-
one for every school day.
those khakis are no longer worn, and in their place are
bug splats,
medals and salutes,
animal fur,
LV checkers.
line them up in his closet and see what
changes seven years have produced.
i can still remember
on the steps, we'd talk at noontime since lunch was the only moment i saw him.
online we'd speak about politics and his fascination
over how one book can give birth to a million followers.
those conversations are no longer spoken, and in their place are
hi.
bye.
i want those old days back.
spontaneous trips to davis and back.
those phone calls telling me you're dropping by in Berkeley type of back.
starting with dinner tomorrow =D yayyyyyy.