Cranemoon

two months after I asked you out
you said, “does the offer still stand?”
for a moment, I was happy
then told my therapist that love
is an anxiety disorder

the date moved awkwardly
from the café to the club
where the music — it was dub —
didn’t suit my age
I touched your hands
your eyes missed mine

we left the club
we saw a street, houses
and above it all a tall crane
a white panel gleamed from it
you said, “just like a full moon”

I thought, this is my last chance
but the kiss froze in my throat

when I found my voice again
and asked when I’d see you next
it turned out I was right.