my finger does a slow honeybee dance
across the palm of his hand
"will you love me when i'm old" he says
i say of course babe. even more than i do now
he smiles like i'm playing a trick on him
"really?" yes, i say, love is like a tree
it grows and grows and has more and more leaves
"until they fall off" he says
until they fall off. but they grow back.
"until they don't" he says
it's just a metaphor, i say
he sticks out his tongue
and we eat our pancakes
in silence