Page 34

Forecast

 

It was forty-five degrees and raining,

the day I realized I couldn't resist you.

A wave of wind and flooded pools on the road

swept up and carried off my car

and we sailed across unknown territory

without a map.

It was twenty-nine degrees and snowing

the day I realized I wanted you.

The smell of asphalt and ice still linger

and I can track the scent back to the moment

where our eyes met and I silently begged them

to never part.

It was fifty-one degrees and cloudy

the day I realized I loved you.

I can still feel the texture of the glass

and the magic of the fingerprints left behind

as they met our heritage on the other side,

a reminder that we are all connected.

It was seventy-two degrees and neutral

the day I realized I couldn't live without you.

There was music in the background

and bright lights along the ceiling.

But time stood still just long enough

for you to wrap your arms around me

and they seemed to fit like no article of clothing

ever could.

It was eighty-eight degrees and dark

the night I realized I was mistaken.