You struggle with your age

While I wrestle with my youth

I wish I was eight years younger,

You say, thinking it would make things

Easier. Would twenty four year old

You like twenty four year old me?

I’d like to give credit to the

Brilliance of time and place

And trust the path we’ve created

Is nothing new.

All our own. Speeding up

And slowing down

at random intervals- the only constant

our communication.

Clear and steady and honest

and at times awkward, but authentic

All the same.

And when I feel silly or stupid

Or downright juvenile

I think to the moment we met:

Sitting face to face at a coffee shop.

Me; with my white overalls,

Space buns, and

strawberry flavored

Coffee. You; with your tired

Eyes and sweat soaked t-shirt,

Striding In from the skate park;

Talking of books and

Poetry and people.

The real magic

Happened weeks later

when we could sit silently

And write and read and Be.

Time does not validate

Relationships; people do.