After we missed the bus I took your hand
and pulled you into the library.
Most of the lights were off and there was only one person left working
at the front desk, rolling pages into caterpillars.
We walked into the fiction section (Q-R) and remembered,
I built a cabin out of hardcovers
only your legs poked out of the front.
I left the roof open so we could watch the constellations
parade through the skylight.
In the morning our cabin had crumbled and been re shelved.
I asked if you wanted breakfast and we ate typhoon analysis spreadsheets
the data crisping on my Canadian stove.
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