In Another Life
I looked at you
as if permanence were possible.
That was my first mistake.
I loved you
not in fractions,
not in hesitation.
I loved you from the echo of your laughter,
from the way your name
softened every edge inside me.
I loved you when the weight grew heavier,
when loving you meant
slowly disappearing.
Even then,
I stayed.
Perhaps in another life
there is a house with open windows,
children with your eyes
and my glasses slipping down their noses
a quiet inheritance of us.
I watched you from the stands,
holding you with my gaze
as if devotion alone
could build a future.
But maybe
we were only a possibility
a story that almost happened,
a life that chose another door.
D