Today we were
talking about
yesterday and
tomorrow we
will talk about
today somehow
even though
today never
happened because
we spent the day
talking about
yesterday
today.

A drop of you
and instantly
I am you
and you are me.

The texture of your voice
in the dark is soft leather
and coffee in the morning
stones on hot afternoons
to sweaters in the evening
but that is just a single day.

There's a little piece of you in me
and a little part of me in you

a part of me I miss and look for
a piece of you you think you've lost

when I find you with that part of me
and you see me with that piece of you

we'll approach each other cautiously
pulled together easily

by the part of me and piece of you

that will be, eventually
the piece that completes you
and the part that completes me.

That day I decided
I'd stay here forever.

No wonder
I love you.

It was sweet of you to sit beside me tonight
I needed someone to listen to the air with me
the two of our faces submerged in a mess
of cold winds and wintery spite and sounds
coats pulled to our ears covered in wool hats
shivers peddling their little dances through us
tremors from the soft of our shoulders
to the flats of our fingertips and holding tight
to our chests trying their best to force even breaths
we sat and waited for whatever we waited for
each unhappy with circumstances we dismissed
in a coat-and-glove-inducing January whisper
too early to be dark out and too late for light
but it was sweet of you to sit beside me.