i fell in love
with the idea of us
twisting in words
breaking backs
in tune of twenty-two
and we age in
fine time and blurred lines
squeezing lemons
for men out of might
and we skip on fine lines
in white noise
to find ourselves in tune
with scribbles on blank pages
journals from our childhood
and i write to quake
tremble between words
in our truth
and i said i loved
but i lust ideas
two souls on a blank page
reminiscing over dinner
with romantic qualities
within each other
yet words scribe our moments
emotions hold our motions
hands grip like ideas grasp
our lips and create thunder
i feel i love on different pages
than the books they read
we fine tune moments for
our own pleasing
i fall in love with the idea
of two at a dinner table
while the tables spinning
and chairs turn
from forward to reverse
our moments twine under
what motions we share
and i find at twenty seven
we quake for hope
because hope is what we hold
and our moments are either
short or long
and sometimes moments
are not enough at all
yet it’s what we take
them for
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