Love Poem: We'Re Growing Up Alone

We'Re Growing Up Alone

I can't tell what day it is
     it's been a strange morning
and afternoon and week or more
     with sirens and alarms at 4am
with words that I can't remember
     saying things I don't understand
It's 4 o'clock now—so far
     we're eight hours too late

Hands and feet and arms
     moving, changing form
in a bed that's never changed
     Why are we growing up

That's always the fear in loving
     the fear of things we're afraid might happen
Seeing you in a mirror—asleep
     in the glass and not in here
It's cold beds we fear most
      (by we, I mean us not them)
You haven't felt in love
      since December crept into the sheets

These moments, out of time
     pause for one last glance
before slipping thru the cracks
     We're growing up alone

Don't be afraid of New York winters
     love's a better home than this

[end].