When he called me “love”, we time travelled across horizons and stopped in 1959.
And there we were, at a drive in where the movie was not the only thing that entertained us!
As I tried to brush away the popcorn crumbs that decked the floors of his 57’ Hudson Hornet, I asked him.
What do you think is the color of Jan’s eyes?
Black and white movies always gave us the freedom to paint the pictures any color we wanted.
“Love, they’d never be as blue as yours”, he whispered as we watched Pillowtalk for the 12th time.
I was called “Love”, not “bae”, nor “boo”, and he’d remind me every day.
His “love” because we belonged to a time that was, to a time we wished to live.
The drive ins and ice cream parlours,
The time of sock hops and malt shops,
Where we imagined dancing close and driving far,
Sneaking out and falling…
In trouble, ‘cause Daddy caught him throwing pebbles at my window,
In my arms, cause I’ve always been as warm as a nightlamp,
In love and in other such fantasies.