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2017 Does it make you laugh
knowing the things I can’t forget
that have slipped out your doors like rain?
Does it make you proud
the hands you’ve held
lying on the railroad tracks broken like us?
Does it make you more
every halfhearted promise you make
and steal like minutes?
Does it make you smile
when you tell our story?
Yours, hers, mine, too many to count.
Does it make your day
every time you don’t think of us
like you did with your lips on
something?
Do you know how
we sit here like new supernovas
moving on?
