You are the soil beneath my feet,
the ground I’ve walked on, the roads
I’ve traveled, West Coast to Midwest.
You are every hand I’ve shaken,
the dirt between my fingernails
and the glimmer of the setting sun.
You are the photographs
that line my bedroom mirror, the bottle
of wine with the dusty label
on my kitchen shelf, the clear glass jar
of sand as beautiful and as calm as our first kiss.
And if I could trace back our lives like road maps,
I’d see our paths intersecting through highways
and city streets and quiet towns. Our lives, two lines
crisscrossing and interweaving through the places
we’ve both loved and lost. You and I, threaded
together on these maps, making homes
of where we’ve wandered.
Creating our own little world.