We committed,
after years of dating,
that some doors we would always open together.
No matter what, even when
love sounded like overripe fruit hitting
pavement.
We learned
tricks, of course, from those that knew
more about such things—
like sparrows.
How they build nests from the debris
of last night’s storm.
And even though I have felt like a root
moving blindly,
startled by the wall of its own flowerpot,
mostly, I look at you,
overwhelmed by all that can happen
between two bodies.
By Erik Norbie