i used to write poems about our reunion
in some brooklyn cafe
before i knew what distance between us
actually was.
no matter how many times it happens,
i am amazed at the capacity of human beings
to grow together
and grow apart.
what i’m trying to say is,
i miss you.

i used to connect the dots of your freckles
while you spent hours
coaxing food into my stubborn
mouth
i was restless and cynical and
i would never tell you when anything was wrong
you had more patience with me
than i deserved

i’ve been convincing myself for years
that you’re nothing more
than an old wound,
but the truth is
there’s a part of me that won’t ever make sense
unless someday, somehow
i see you again.
there is a small place in my heart
that has never stopped
waiting
(and i can’t quite convince it
that you are irretrievably gone)

so maybe it isn’t wrong,
maybe one day
we’ll find our way together
again
and you’ll have grown our your beard
and i’ll have cut off my hair
and i swear
maybe you’ll be wearing
those old jeans
and we’ll talk about the way
i used to untie your shoelaces
under the lunch table

(as if i wouldn’t still
drop everything and marry you
if you would
only
ask)