And I'd probably write it on a cocktail napkin

I'll write you a tiny manifesto
about things
light motives
and I'll read it to you
standing across the table
out loud with a shaky voice
just so you know I'm serious
the air between us like a fugitive

perhaps in some ripple of time
at the edge of the world
we sit together
and eat bright apples
the sun licks your face
your body relaxed
one of your hands resting on my bare knee
and we never knew anything else