Birthday ghazal for Michel

I think, after all, I must like you a little. I follow you!

From the glorious coasts to the towns you belittle, I follow you.

All those airplanes we've caught by a hair, by a prayer.

All those leases we've signed with a jot and a tittle: I follow you.

You have thought that I'm guilty of not enough caring.

Here, love, is my perfect acquittal: I follow you.

Houses, walk-ups, and rentals. More boxes, more movers.

Together in zigzags. Is that noncommittal? I follow you.

Here we are in this crazy-paint treehouse, amor

Slowly finding some kind of routine that we whittle. I follow you.

We're looking for things we have lost or we've wished for.

We're mellowing, softening, things that were brittle. I follow you.