Sometimes I worry
about the amount of things
I will have
left
to say to you next time -
should I make a list?

How will I account for segways?
(You take a lot of detours
and I follow in fear that you'll walk
away,
but I'm expected to find my way
back.)
I'll bring breadcrumbs next time;
maybe ducks will eat them though.

As long as I'm with you, anywhere
feels right.
Like on your kitchen counter,
sipping sickly sweet grape juice
while you microwaved popcorn.

Or on the stairs in the basement -
where I discovered your heart
beat
and you discovered that my lips are sweet.

Or crouched on the tiles behind the cabinet
with tears puddling around me
and I text you instructions not to call
but you
still
tried,
7 times,
and you said that it's okay if I say nothing.

Back to square one:
we find ourselves with phones to our ears -
(yours possibly taped to your head because
you like to eat at
1 am)
in silence together.

At some point, I cave -
'What's the point of this? We could be silent and not on the phone with each other.'

You reply - 'It's just better this way because I can
Feel you.'

We'll never run out of silence
because now it's all we have.