We Thought Time Would Wait

We believed

everything was reversible.

Nights were borrowed.

Mornings were optional.

Mistakes were just stories

we hadn’t learned how to tell yet.

We stood on sidewalks

making promises

that required no witnesses.

The future felt distant,

like a city we’d visit later,

once we figured out

who we were pretending to be.

Now I see us—

reckless, brilliant, unfinished—

spending time

as if it would never notice.

It did.