the day before:
your lip's crevices cup the kisses i sneak you,
knocked about and splashing in and out,
my ever-filling love sinks into each gap.
we touch fingertips like the first and last time
and pretend that tomorrow doesn't exist.
but i recognize that we are playing a waiting game.
airplanes and flat tires, we are always trying to go
somewhere. the sun is in our eyes and we are often
lost, but we use the stars to find one another.
the day after:
the wind blows through the trees and i feel your warmth
through my window screen. i patch up the rips with
scotch tape and notice that each mend connects to form
and then i remembered that time you visited in the fall. we
walked to the park with a picnic basket that's handle
tore apart halfway there.
my skin starts to form goosebumps and i close the window
wondering if there will be a next fall again,
or if i need to fix that basket handle.