They are
who we could have been.
They met young.
Everyone said they wouldn’t last,
but here they are 18 years later.
We are listening to their parents’ old albums
on vinyl,
sipping whiskey, laughing,
and telling stories of what they’ve done,
what you and I never did.
I love who they are – together and apart.
I love that they’ve grown together,
loved together, changed together.
I watch him pouring whiskey from the kitchen,
relaxing with his glasses on,
tall and comfortable and effortless.
He is happy and shrugging and himself.
I watch her changing the soundtrack in the living room,
grooving and wearing his t-shirt,
short and strong and with her guard down.
She is happy and open and herself.
They are who I thought we’d be
by now.


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Filed under poem, poetry

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