The Time Traveler Finally Falls in Love

and it ends, of course, in fabulous heartbreak, like anything—

it’s not an if, but when—so the trick is learning how to bend

the days you get: nailing our flowers to the wall, reading

side by side; memorize his body curving like a question

mark, asking, can we stay like this forever? We can.

We travel to his boyhood home; to ancient Rome; to

my twenties where we laugh at what I thought was real

love; we see art in every century. We grow old together

at different times. We rebuild our ship from scraps

of former relationships—debris of who we have

been or seen, blueprints for our future past. We host

our friends for cocktail hours. We sign a lease on a house.

I meet his friends, and through them, I love him more. I take

him to his first drag show. He talks us through our first fight;

we have the same fight again. We kiss on corners just because

we have fought hard for it. We make up words for this. I say,

I have never been in love. I ask, how will I know what’s next?

He takes my hand. He takes me home. We meet, as strangers,

on a blank morning, and he says he doesn’t have much time.

Instantly, I recognize this man. I’ve been waiting here for him.