overflow

it's the sound
my cup runneth over
the water filling the glass makes
my cup runneth over
one hand on the tap
you leadeth me
you know
my cup runneth over
to let go
my cup runneth over
without thinking
you leadeth me
listening to the rise of water
my cup runneth over
about to overflow

standing in line at the post office

"look, she has hair like yours!"
he said, to his son
pointing at our red hair
(his more natural than mine)
i only smiled in response

i really didn't mind
even if i would usually be annoyed
as he had held the door
and let me stand in front of him
the slow moving line at the post office

and i had already watched
as his son gave him a hug
clutching his side
thinking for a moment how i missed my dad

and they seemed so giggly
so chatty
how could i mind

"you'll be with me tonight"
he said, holding his son tight
"and your mother tomorrow"

suddenly wondering
about the nature of overcompensation

we were young

down the beach
we walked
my hair catching the salt spray

we talked
i can't remember about what
only that the sun
was fast disappearing
and we knew
our parents would soon be wondering

trying to hold on
to stretch out the week
the impermanence of the ocean
lapping at our heels

knowing we couldn't get lost
the beach one long line
we were young
gas station sunglasses tucked in your back pocket
we were young
unconcerned with little beyond boys
and knowing we wanted to be friends forever