I’ll always love those I’ve loved
Even if I cross the street to avoid them.
But a note to self,
Make sure the words “I love you”
aren’t him saying “I own you”
Make sure the hand on you,
isn’t claiming a prize.
I sometimes wonder how
Much I exist
In other people’s minds.
I want to love
That we still stroke each other’s faces
When we are old.
I wonder if my grandparents hold each other
And whisper words of love
Or if too many years
Have hardened their hearts
And left the other as an enemy?