We are all  
subways
stuck in their tracks
running parallel lines on a graph 
or horizontal streaks of rain 
on the windshield of a moving train 

But some bodies car crash 
lips bruising supple nectarines 
we try so hard that
we tend to forget
we haven’t met all the people who will love us yet 

And they ask us 
what is it about being in love? 
I tell them 
you walk through the sand 
dragging your feet 
but we run faster in the rain