Take her out to the
museum, I bet she wasn't
the girl who appreciates
artwork as much as you do
but bring her to that place
and tell her about your
researched stories
behind those paintings
and artifacts and she'll
ask you when will be
your next visit.
Take her to the river you
spent your childhood with your
father for some fishing.
It was just only few blocks
away from your since-birth home.
Let her borrow you brother's
2-year-old bike so she'll get there
in just five minutes.
She will one day like the
smell of fresh water
and rustling wind.
Bring her to the seafood resto
you spend your 40-minute break
from work. Let her taste buds
struggle from confusion
in which to pick first.
Let her feel sorry for the
leftovers but feel more sorry
for her full stomach.
Take her to your office.
Let her meet your officemates
and let her know why you
just can't leave your job.
Let her realize you have an
amazing circle of friends
and a stack of paper files
to finish in a coming week.
Take her to your favorite
football game, let her wear
the same get up that you have
and let her pretend that she's a fan.
Let her blend to the shrieks
and rants and bring her a red cup
of beer while she steal
your team preference.
Take her to movie dates.
Take her to your bedroom.
Take her to your desk.
Take her to your attic and dark secrets.
Take her to your kitchen
as you make her your baked cookies.
Take her to the ocean and shores.
Take her to your trekked forest.
Take her.
Take her everywhere,
even to your dreams and sobbing past.
Take her to your joys and aches.
Take her to the worst and best versions of your self.
Take her to the bonfires and deep conversations.
Take her
to the places she'll spend her days
falling deeper in love with you.
Take her to the places
we used to go.
I'll take her to museums
and watch her look at the artworks
that remind me of you.
I'll tell her how they
make me feel;
that looking at them
feels like driving aimlessly
with her as she listens
to the country music
from my car's stereo.
that looking at them
feels like sitting in the kitchen
as I watch her make
pancakes and coffee.
I'll take her to the childhood river
where I fished with Dad;
letting her ride my brother's bike.
I'll watch her cycle away with excitement
watch her catch her first fish,
watch her pretend to get mad
as I splash her some water
and pull her for a swim,
and I'll kiss that feigned
madness away
in my favorite place,
your favorite place,
our favorite place,
hoping that she erases
the sight of you everywhere;
you, half-naked behind that bush,
you, sitting on the bank,
you
and me,
skin-to-skin in the water.
I'll take her to that seafood resto
where I spend my lunch breaks.
As she looks at the menu,
I'll search for the
lusters in her eyes,
like the ones I saw in yours
when we used to go here.
While eating,
I'll wait for that familiar
"hmmm" on that grilled squid
and no-spice-meal-orders
and tucking-stray-hairs-on-the-ear
and silly burps
and one-word calligraphy
on tissue papers,
and I'll realize that they're not here,
and you're
not here.
I'll take her to the office
and let her meet my pals
and see my desks and paperworks
and my current nameless stapler
you christened "Aslaksen"
and she'll know that I'm working hard
to give her a better future,
a future we once thought were ours.
I'll take her to my favorite
football game and she'll be there
standing and shrieking
as if she knew what was going on,
and I'll laugh at how cute that was
'til I realize she was sitting on
the same spot where you spilled
your beer because of the hype.
I'll take her to movie dates,
to my bowling and archery spot,
and to my lost hopes and dark secrets.
I'll take her to my apartment's kitchen
and show her the chocolate ice cream
I bought,
her favorite,
only to realize
it was yours.
I'll take her to the seashore,
and to the pine forest ten miles
away from home.
I'll take her.
I'll take
her.
I'll take her everywhere —
to my weirdest dreams and childhood,
to my success and regrets.
I'll take her to the best parts of me
and to the places where
I left my worsts.
I'll take her to my favorite songs,
and to the photographs and poems
hidden beneath
the pile of my old clothes,
and to that tattoo studio
where I almost got
a tattoo with you
and maybe —
maybe this time,
we can be the ones
who'll get inked together.
I'll take her to all these places
where we can create our memories.
I'll take her to all these places
that will make her say "This is where
I fell in love with you."
I'll take her to all these places,
except for home.
Cause home will always be ours — yours and mine.
