It is autumn, so every morning I wake up
and move around on shivering legs
in the quiet apartment
and I wish I was back in bed, warm,
comfortable; odds are I’d be touching you
just barely, the press of my knee against your thigh,
the weight of your hot fingers on my ribs.
These are the things I always come back to in the fall.
I used to believe people fell in love only once,
and that love lasted them their whole lifetime, that
in all that time, over all those nights, it only grew,
but I think differently now; I think I’ve fallen in love with you
a thousand times.  I think people mistake the growing for love
but it’s not; it’s roots, it’s us.  We grow, and love, like all things,
splits open and the seeds for it are planted fresh and
one day you make a joke you’ve never made
and my laugh is a whole new sound reverberating in my ribcage
and we are not the same people as we were last year
but it doesn’t matter because 
I’ve fallen in love with every incarnation of you I’ve met
and I plan on loving all the rest.

The End

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