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how long have i known you?
when did i lose you?
how many times have i seen the whites of your eyes?

and why is your back such a familiar slope,
that i can still feel it
without touching?

 

‘cause i’m sure i knew you
before your name had passed my lips

 

and i’m sure i loved you
before i looked down
after that one, first time
i looked up

and saw

you

 

there’s a memory in the woods
there’s a picture under water
there’s a glimpse of us together
and smiling
from across the room
and i keep thinking,
when did that happen

or has it just not happened yet?

 

i’ve never been good at remembering.

past tense
is clouded by opinion
and shrouded in outcome
and colored incorrectly
by the crayons of present day

 

but the future
– tomorrow –
is a china plate
and somehow,
without knowing how,

i love you in that, too.

 

 

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