I think
about when we walked downhill from your six-bedroom new build
to the fluorescent glow of the convenience store to grab movie snacks
and five guys were outside, crotch-grabbing and bottle-chugging,
and you walked ahead 
and swung open the door 
and it hit me in the back
and the guys hooted and hollered.

I think
about when you grabbed a few izzys and a pack of cigs and popcorn and walked up
to the cashier to pay
and I was still standing by the door
and my face burned
and you walked back over to me
and pushed your lips into mine
and the guys oohed and ahhed.

I think
about when I went 
to open the door 
and you said no, I’ve got this
and you handed me the soft plastic bag
and I trailed behind you, forgiving puppy dog,
and you waved at the guys
and the guys waved back.