The thing is, it is not supposed to work this way.
Not that love has an expiration date, but this,
the looking across the room feeling my heartbeat raise
still, a bit like the teenager you no longer are.
That is not how it works. All the books say so,
and the neighbors and the kids, all of them,
which leaves me at the table, wondering
what is wrong with me, or right, so old
I have finally decided I am a slow learner, destined
to spend my life simply learning new ways to love.
About this poem
A love poem (duh). Inspired by an unattributed quote (Don’t you hate that?) about how we never replace one person with another because each person is their own exquisite collection of details. That we have to learn to love anew, every time.
Slow dancing in the studio.