Tell me we'll never get old

because age is just another word for weary
and you're never going to get tired of this
pocket-to-palm life we've built
out of everyday knick knacks and
the daily delivery of baby's breath
from your lips to mine.

Tell me I'll never be alone

because empty air on our bed isn't wasted.
It's just waiting, spaces unfolding
like pressed lungs in the dark--
like the way I've memorized your nape
the side glanced so often
that I know it more than your face.

Tell me things will never change

because change means progression
and we've got perfection tucked away
inside the spaces between us
where the lights are so bright
that cataracts can't keep you from me.