I am a mess.
My mind stops working and my words start falling
Out of my mouth like the clumsy ramblings
Of a middle school girl who doesn’t know
How to talk to boys yet.
I feel the corners of my mouth move involuntarily
When I look at you and see you smile.
Fire brushes my fingers when I touch your hair
Or hold your hand
And feel warmth creep up my body,
But I know I am holding onto borrowed time.
I am used to being the one leaving–
Jumping from state to state like a nomad
With no sense of place,
But my movement hits pause while yours hits play in a new city,
And I am met with this restless uncertainty
That settles over me as days grow shorter, nights longer,
And sleep fades away.
I don’t want you to fade, so I’ll keep my eyes open
And concentrate on the soft lines of your face
And the crooked way your mouth grins
As if you’re up to something.
I’ll trace my fingers over the parts of you
That give me warmth, comfort,
And a space to fit my body in some part of the living.
I’m going to miss walking with you while the city falls silent
Beneath old stone buildings and bell towers.
I’ll miss the ramen noodles with karaoke
And late night movies that went on for hours.
I’ll miss this span of time between the spaces of your fingers,
but I like this piece I get to have for now.
And when now turns into then,
I’ll remember the moments
When I listened to your voice in a city asleep.