i haven’t seen you in months
and your memory causes
heartbeats to flood my chest.

who you could be,
who you are, causes
symphonies, causes
thunderstorms in the chambers
that lie under my ribs.

i can imagine growing old
with you, old like oak trees,
stretching and wrinkling
till we touch the sky and fall,

but i would be happy knowing
that you are growing old at all.
i am so in love with you
that your life, happy and long,
with or without me,
is all that i want.