From the time I was a child I was told that love could
only unfold in a pre-patterned way
where it happens on time
unhurried and stays
and stays
I didn’t know that love could come in waves
didn’t know that love could grow in place
light the skies

I didn’t know that love could be the shortest distance between
shoulder blade and shoulder blade
the arch of a jawline the dirty hands
that put dinner on a table the dirty feet
that run away

the going the going the faster pace
up before the sun howl at the full moon
what if life is over too soon
stealing moments just to be with you
breaking gifted patterned plates in
drunken celebration the first time names are
signed side by side

I didn’t know that love could be the longest road between
where we are from and where we imagine
the sharpest knife the shooting star
the unmade bed the moment of lift
the longest goodbye

sometimes I imagine a long rewind a pause button a
replay of the montage of the moments we met
and the tape breaks and you break down
and I break down and what if
it was never meant to be

I didn’t know that love could be a scrapbook in a bottomless box
in an endless closet in a haunted house in an abandoned
underwater city where ghosts exhume
ghosts and I exhume you just to let
you go