I love this part.
When your lips still are brightly colored
alphabet letters and my forehead is still a giant white
refrigerator
When even after just an hour passes
I miss our hands touching
and you might get mad-
and you might say, "already?"
and I laugh and look down at my boots and say,
"yes, already."
then you take my face in your hands
and you tell me, "I like the way you do certain thing, the way you say certain words."
I love this part, when I can still think to myself
isn't it strange that we used to be strangers
I feel like we meet way before that.