what if we were not strangers?
what if i could count on my hands
your heartbeats, strung out moment to moment,
and always heard. what if we
were not lovers? i would still cherish your voice
and the breaths of your lungs, and bless
your aptitude for loving others.
what if we were birds, with visible talons
instead? what if we were pipes in
the same organ, what interval would we sing?
you are the ascendance of my kestrel cry,
the major third and delight of my windburned heart.
what if we were not strangers but two
pigeons on a city street? what better place
has there ever been for two odd ducks to meet?