If our story came with footnotes,
may we never refer to them.
A spine, crackling
cover to cover overflowing,
a weather forecast
a ticket stub
Our first kiss tasted just like
the next decades of my life
flashing before my eyes.
When the sun shines
peeking through, peach tones
that’s the lightness I feel
coming home to you.
You told me once that the freckles on my cheeks
were proof of every time the sun
kissed my face.
When the time comes
and the sky opens up and we’re swallowed whole
I pray I enter empty-handed, with nothing to show.
“I have gifted all the love you afforded me,”
and the universe would laugh,
“While you have none of what I gave you
all those years ago,
you are still adorned
with someone who has offered his
back to you.”