saint of blue eyes.

you sat and stared at me, cowering under the fog of scotch on my breath.

i thought, "my god, if you could, for a moment, wander chambers inside and know how i adore you, you would let me."

you ran your hand through your hair and checked your watch.

i thought, "with your eyes and my smile, we could go a lot of places."

you mumbled something about how i should have a happy birthday, despite.

i thought, "the more i try, the less i get."

you glanced up from your hands, for just a moment, and touched my knee, "you know..." and you stopped talking.

i thought, "i know."

you swatted at a moth and drew your arms in closer around your chest.

i thought, "i know, i'm not her, but damn, what a good friend i've grown up to be."

you stood up, put out the second cigarette you ever smoked, and started your walk home.

i thought, "it's allright, i don't measure many things by love."