Who doesn’t have an office crush? The one they always take to lunch? The one they noticed right away, the one they’re with ten hours a day, the one they find they long to touch? Someone who hears the arguments while pretending to file documents, who hears exactly what you say, who tells you it will be okay over a stairwell cigarette?

So one night they tell us all Tim from production’s moving on. They’re having drinks at six, I know who I’ll be drinking with. We’ll be there till the last call. And then we’ll stand outside the bar. The streets aren’t lit up like we are. I kiss your cheek but seem to slip and meet the corner of your lips, and you climb silent into the car.

Let’s not and say we did. Won’t need forgiveness for our sins, we’ll be completely innocent, if we just don’t and say we did.

It was the best night of my life. All of the stars must have been aligned. As you undressed before the blinds, the lonely streetlamp shined behind, binding you in bands of light. You always wondered what I’d do if you suggested a rendezvous. And as I take the fateful trip across this room into your grip, I think that I have answered you.

And then we curl into our dreams, and I will have a fitful sleep. I dream not of what I need, I dream not of what I seek, I dream of what I failed to keep.

Let’s not and say we did. There is no state that’s permanent, but let’s not break up our lives yet, we can have a night we won’t regret, we can have a night we won’t forget. We can still warmly dream of it if we just don’t and say we did. If we just don’t and say we did.