We are both lovers of the hypothetical,
The Sunday morning eggs and toast
as we watch the wind comb the trees from our apartment window.
Sometimes I wonder If we are living our hypothetical,
If the threads of our lives have come together
to form one tapestry  
or if I am one piece of your puzzle,
if one day my name will come unstuck
and fall from your lips.

But I am grateful to fall,
to have spent any fraction of time
With my name on your tongue,
And yours on mine.