(with thanks to Rebecca Mullen)
The way the tangerine never thinks
to thank its peel, the way the button
doesn’t appreciate the thread
that tethers it, the way the water
doesn’t honor the shore
for encompassing it, this is the way I want
you to take me for granted. As if
I will always be here to hold you. As if
you are so safe you forget
that things change. As if you are so sure
of my love that it’s as assumed
as air, as unremarkable as birdsong
in summer, as given as the gravity
that keeps you from floating away,
as constant as the sound of the river
that you need to leave before
you remember to hear it again.