2011-01-26T21:31:09-08:00January 26th, 2011|Relationships|

The old story of you

Next time I see you
I plan to be brave
and risk the bumpiness
of interesting conversation.

You’ve known me for so long
you think of me like
your knees:
same but older.

But I am not a part of you;
I am not even the girl
from your memories.
I am way
over here now.

And I am guilty too.
I hold the old story of you
like an egg,
afraid to break
the sameness
and scavenge your new life
with wonder.

Next time I see you
I want to see
I want an earthquake of emotion
to shatter our dusty past
and in the cracks beneath us
let my curiosity about you
bloom a hundred hungry questions
like dandelions:
fresh, bright and alive.

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