by Cindy Gecaj

Let’s make it cheap
and drink from paper cups
as we repaint the walls on our own.

We’ll spend our Sundays
looking for yard sales
and start with the wooden instruments
then make our way to the ceramic elephants
and model airplanes.

As you’re captivated by these trinkets
I marvel at your calloused hands.
I take note of your jawline,
when it occurs to you
that all we have is loose change.

It’s okay if we’ll never be those people in the magazines.
We decide when to leave,
how to be,
and we’ll exist within the white space of our favorite novels.

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