she tells me that you can’t stop talking about me
as we stroll down the pier a few nights later
are you trying to steal my girl?
she’s kidding — right?
i laugh it off,
even though it’s suddenly harder to breathe
i’ll admit that i was miffed
when she first started cancelling plans to hang out with you,
but now i understand
though if you’re talking so much about me,
why haven’t you texted me yet?
— i’m not asking her that,
turning the conversation to safer things:
she plays along,
a silent agreement forming between us:
you’re a can of worms we’d rather not open