TWO

we were on our second date
circling in the car because
neither of us were ready to go home.
my new home.
empty of furniture.
empty of memories.
i realized:

i have no idea where i am right now.

i live a quarter mile away, but i'm lost.

i don't know these streets.
i don't know these shops.
i'll never know this area less than i know it
right now.

soon,
that random chinese place on the corner that was closed
when we got there will be my favorite junk food.

soon,
that donut shop we passed will be my favorite hangover treat.
i'll figure out which gas station has the lowest prices.
i'll choose my favorite grocery store, the one that has the
best produce.
i'll find my favorite first-date restaurant (thanks to you).

and after that,
i can never unlearn it.
this will be my neighborhood.

what a special moment,
to be lost so close to home.

a moment i'll never get back.
a moment i can never recreate.
new, fresh, strange.
not yet mine.

i looked to my left, saw you, and
i realized:

i have no idea where i am right now.

i'm lost.

i don't know you.
i don't know your heart.
i'll never know you less than i know you right now.
i know i'm not ready for love right now,
for love again,
i know i'm just hoping for a distraction.

but what if this is a beginning?
what if this is a beginning,
and i don't acknowledge it?
new, fresh, strange.
not yet mine.

so,
i allowed myself to acknowledge you
just in case,
i embraced this beginning
painted a picture to look back at in our old age
just in case.

what a special moment,
to be lost so close to home.