Dear Danielle (poem, anecdote)

I always knew that you were nice,
since the night we met, rolling dice.

Soon, I saw you were intelligent and cool,
from the first and many shots of pool.

You told me of a haggis birthday,
and pronouncing “Edinburgh” the right way.

Scotland meant so much to me,
which you read alongside each **sip of whiskey**.

The ice cream and stout at Thimble Island’s bar.
And the story of my forehead’s scar.

If you leave New Haven, I won’t be sad.
Because, somehow, somewhere, you’re still rad.

May the composition of your necklace stay perfect.
Keep on striving Danielle, I know it’s worth it.

Your viral smiles have done much for me,
alongside some southern hospitality.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s