Some days “you and me” just feels like a rattlesnake:
dangerous and life-threatening but poison too sweet to let go of.
There’s never been any wound I’ve wanted to keep more
than the one we’ve both made venomous together.
Just to be clear, you and me can be hot and cold,
but no matter how many days I wake up on the wrong side of the bed
with you on the right side feeling like my chest is full of icicles,
I will always wait for the mornings when I wake up
with skin full of flames and kindling, ready and willing
to kiss you at a moment’s notice.
My grandmother used to say that reading a couple’s palm lines
is the best predictor of how both of them will end up
or even if they’ll last to the next month,
yet I know our lines have crossed a dozen times and sometimes fought,
but always return to the place
where they first joined together.
On the nights when you and I feel as far apart
as the North and South Pole, I just keep reminding myself
that soon we’ll feel as close as Florida and the Atlantic Ocean.
Because when I was child, I did my best to nurse butterflies
with broken wings back to health, and realized that sometimes,
the things that are the most delicate
are also the easiest to repair.