boys and girls

there you were,
off the plane,
and the only thing we had
were footsteps,
everywhere,
from museums
to the grocery store,
all the way to hood river
and back.

we flew
that easy.

then the move,
from me to you,
let's bunker down
and
learn to be a family.

our debts are almost paid
off.

and let's go buy a better bed
and rent a bigger home.

you'll beat me
at our one millionth game
of rummy.
you always do.

in ten years time,
we'll even own our very
own artspace.

we even have a name
for it.

in the meantime,
let's buy cultural figurines
from second hand stores and
give them names.

you'll go to my family
funeral.
i'll go to yours.

and what we have
is always enough.

but now
we both know, enough is
just never enough.

and now,
there is a boy
sleeping in our bed,
probably on the same side
where i once slept.

sitting,
with your body
stretched across
his,
on that same movie couch,
where we posed
for new years pictures.

yes.
some day
that bed,
and that sofa,
and the deck of cards,
even the figurines
that we gave names
will be replaced.

you'll always win
at cards.

and someday
we'll forget that we
even lived
there.