It’s the way you say and
when you’re annoyed, your questioning look
when I make fun of you,
the way you try to pronounce Prost
and then say skoal instead.
It’s the way you nudge me when I’m standing at the till
and don’t immediately notice you walking past,
it’s the way you wave hello and how you hate coffee
but love tea. It’s the way you dress
and how you panick when you can’t find your keffiyeh.
It’s the way you jump about when you’re happy,
and the way you smile. It’s your infectious laugh
and the way you talk about your home.
It’s your willingness to share a few weeks of your life,
that makes me wonder what had happened
had we met earlier
or had I simply had a choice where to be born.