Waitress behind the counter in manhattan

I will recognize your face. Your memories like my fingerprints will never fade. Wouldn't you recognize my face if we met in a familiar place. I loved you then, like I love you now. I remember everything about you: the schools you applied to: milwaukee, Stonybrook, your dreams: becoming a physicians assistant, the way you combed your hair: to the side then to the highlights in your long brown hair, lunch on Wednesday at 1:30, Cell biology: how are eyes met, how we followed each other, the pepsi bottle, the skittles bag, microbiology, the last walk to algebra 06, Chemistry 114, right next to my organic class. My biggest regret in life was when you walked down the stairs and I never opened the door for you. Sweet Roseanne, beautiful Roseanne, I still adore you.

From
Your Last American Virgin