A Binary Star

If you were here.
We'd laugh at how dribbly
our sweaty summer cocktails are.
We'd discuss, we'd sit silently.
Eat something real good quite violently in your car.
Kiss in the backyard under the hoses rain.
You'd rub my shoulders,
I'd do more of the same.
We'd sleep easy every night
with some sort of snoring machine.
Sharing fruit, justifying occasions
for a suit in a magazine.
If, you were here.
And, until you are
I'll always sit with the next seat open
just hopin'
bus, diner, or bar.