It wasn’t my fault, nor my intentions
yet I stand here and I can’t imagine it different.
whatever you want to believe
I’ll stand here as long as we sing our songs
dance to these drums
hold you in my arms
curse the sun
bless the moon
and share those moments.
I’ll capture them with my camera
watch you through the mirror
heels high and shirt unbuttoned
window brings in the scent
of fresh bread from the bakery:
we’re going to be late.
A bench from afar
the same light; the years passed before
seemed like a lifetime ago
when we we’re catching butterflies.