“the kind of stories that people turn life into,
the kind of lives people turn stories into”
isn’t that just what I promised you
when we both pushed fear
to the bottom of the page
because we liked the beginning
too much to second guess
isn’t love just as simple
and just as complicated
as we have all tasted it
isn’t being here the pleasant shiver that fits my skin so well
isn’t your warmth the way I have always wanted to wake up
isn’t today just another love note we have written each other
and when I run out of words
aren’t we the beautiful I have been chasing here
now I have turned around and
this is what we have built
with a summer (or two) apart,
a cross country trip,
some wrenches thrown
straight to the heart
and now in the same city
something to build our own
our story to tell
even when I’m second guessing
my chaos hums with your fire
my insides burn with your song
why should I be caring about the universe
when everything I’ve built is in my hands?
That fourth stanza
is an effin poem unto itself. Badass!