stolen kisses on the subway platform,
the way you lean in to steal them back.
trust in my navigation skills, which
includes concentric conversational circles,
until we eventually reach our destination.
a pile of peace offerings in the morning;
the word goodbye is quickly becoming
my least favorite sound amongst the
cacophony of life, so here’s a banana.
“I’m pithed” and “I don’t believe it” and
sharing what lies behind the curtain, I
don’t think I’ve ever listened so intently
to stories about spiders, bats, and eggs.
setting expectations for when we will
both meet back on shore, rest, before
beginning our improvised adventures.
“turn around,” firm requests of how I
should melt into your arms, knowing this.
... is where my heart is.
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