while we are still young

Now while we are still young,
and strangers call you, 'the handsome one',
when you are with your twin brother,
I want to look you deep in the eyes,
trace the contour of your face,
and caress your all ready thinning hair,
that used to look like tangled, brown wire,
and note to myself that there is nothing 
special in you,
'though it'll somehow remain true,
I want you to do the same for me,
and note to yourself that I am just
an ordinary girl,
and people live in an ordinary world
with special places to go to,
the parkbench under the plastic trees
where we used to spend the afternoon
with nothing to eat but our words and stories
where we would change places, when the sun
glares too much on where I sat,
and the light is blinding to your eyes
and we could not see the moon, because
there were not enough windows, and the roof
was not made of glass, which is why
glass fascinates you, you wanted to build
a glass dome, in your mind, so we could
have a picnic in the living-room while
our children play with our hands and feet,
and eventually fall asleep, between us,
with the moon and stars at our feet

I could do this everyday with you,
because I do not want to surprise myself,
when we are both old and forgetful,
about each other's quirks,
everyday I am learning from you,
that I am an ordinary girl, and you are 
the plain, normal guy that became my friend
and became my lover,
this is not saying that you never made me
feel special,
because love is the cliche that bonds us,
and what makes us whisper in each other's ears
that there really is a science to magic

When we are old and forgetful,
I know I would still fall all over you, 
because of the twinkle in your eyes
from suppressed tears because you
would no longer find me as pretty as the rainbow,
I would fall all over you, because
you would pretend I am still the most
interesting girl I was, 'though I have, by this time,
ran out of steam and all that is glorious in me
has always been ordinary, but I may not be to you
and we would not finish each other's lines,
because we love to listen to the timbre of our voices,
like we love to listen to the rain

So you know now, why I would press
my fingers to your lips, and stare deep into your eyes,
it was not holding with wonder and reverence your parents' genes
but it has always been about the purest essence of your simplicity

Reviews

[Zugzwang]

I enjoyed this poem, its simplicity and it's deep honesty. It is a celebration of the love people experience every day.

[Leslie Philibert]

This impresses with honesty ; this is a very readable ; like this.