as long as the bag is toppling over with celery and almond butter, fizzy water to send bubbles up our noses.
as long as you remind me to stop at red lights because my stories wind me into myself.
as long as the clouds drop sun kisses on our shoulders next to glass windows looking out to daydreaming forests.
as long as i peek at your eyes listening, in the mirror that shows me all that is behind my present self.
as long as the road not meant for us becomes the one we must spiral on.
as long as we sip from cold cocktail glasses under moose heads and trade stories with youth.
as long as we wrap our arms around new bodies and look first into eyes.
as long as we let our fingers type on keys that pull us from crowded spaces into the knowing of prompts.
as long as we stand on her waters and lift arms to God, Universe, and open up surrender of those we hold too tightly because we came here to these waters to open our hands.
as long as memories become poetry.
as long as our spaces share time.
as long as the moon becomes new and invites us to wander through our openings, narrating each glimpse, each lullaby hush of spaces between.
(Thank you Maya Stein for the gorgeous as long as prompt!)