You say I love your face and I love yours
though it can be hard to know the blur,

the amber nights swished with vodka
tonic straw. I had the option to

leave, but you kept me here when I was
cold and afloat, warmed with handmade

bonfire. I drift across the vast Atlantic,
feel tectonic pull after all its pushing,

a broken chunk of earth adrift– don’t we
wait for the current to tell us where to go?

I’ve waited and waited through Pangaea
-esque ruptures I wanted to stop– but

still you kissed my cheek and said
forever we will be interconnected.

(originally published in The Post Grad Journal, Winter 2024)