in about
ten years
we will sit
at a very
familiar
coffeeshop,
and get
the same
coffee and
bacon-egg
things, for
the eleven-
hundredth
time.

in a
moment,
four or five
months ago,
we will have
sat in the car
and decided
to make a
life together.

seven odd years
from now,
we will find
ourselves
in front of
a window,
as it rained
outside your
parents' home.

a year or two
in the past,
we will have
crossed paths
without even
noticing.

in many an
uncountable
week; my
bare thighs
pressed
against
yours — we
will slowly
fall into
making love,
first thing
in the
morning.

last september
you will have
gone into a
cornfield and
told me that
i was the one.

fifty-three
minutes
from now
you will have
had your lunch
and kissed
me again.

several years
ago, we will
have gone
to bed in
different
worlds,
without
knowing
each other.

somewhere
in the exact
middle,
we
will have
unknowingly
imagined
and prayed
just for this.