oops

when the vapor of the air clings to my shoulders,
i think of you
when the vertebrae in my spine bend one by one,
i think of you
when my head bobs up and down in the crowd of a thousand faceless bodies,
i think of you
when the e is plucked,
i think of you
when the red illuminates and vibrates at 3am,
i think of you
when nicotine and caffeine waft through my airway,
i think of you
when the clouds drift into scattered masses of nothing and everything,
i think of you
when the wind brushes my hair against my cheek,
i think of you
when God made the world in seven days,
he thought of you
and he thought of me
and that thought must have happened so sporadically
that a little piece of each of our thoughts collided
and switched places,
leaving a part of you in me
and a part of me in you
because there is no other logical reason
for why the rain,
or a paperclip,
or a chocolate chip,
or a cardboard box,
or a shoelace,
or a styrofoam cup,
or a candle stick,
or a freckle on my nose,
or the word "angel"
would make me think of you
except that God made a mistake
and didn't notice
and that's the reason that we've worked.

my only concern is that God might notice soon
and try and fix it.