I want to get married, I say
and I want to run across every corner of the earth without stop;
but I think I have a soulmate
somewhere in Italy, sipping his after-dinner espresso
and I think I’ve probably got another, sailing around Greece
F_ck, I heard a Columbian’s accent for the first time last night
and—-though I’ve never been to South America—-
I’d bet there’s a few men waiting there for me too, and
How do you pack all the lives you want to live
into just one?
…

In one of our lives, we got married / bought a little house, down by the sea / played music in the mornings dancing wild through the kitchen / nothing but two sets of boxers and breakfast sizzling / retreated to our single studies in the evenings / slow jazz notes tumbling through the quiet hum / I gave you a couple of kids, so I could watch you be a father / and you were the most beautiful thing standing on two legs / teaching your son to ride a bike / cradling your newborn daughter / and every single day was enough / reason to love you harder
…

And still another, we were Old Gods
Intimately entwined of the infallible energies
Birthing entire planets and star systems
  of our chaos and of our joy

And time would pass
and we would grin
just watching
__