"do you think we're friends in every universe?"

i think sometimes
you're an unexpected present in June,
the gift of consideration outside of birthdays.
sometimes i'm gratitude, a full heart
thanking the heavens for you.

sometimes i’m the white-washed face of God
in someone's painting,
and you are the faith in me
despite how that universe is crumbling.

sometimes i'm struggling
—struggling to live, to breathe,
to believe in anything.

but you, you are the answered prayer
i made through hoarse wailing
when i was only fourteen,
as this universe burned around me.

and sometimes i am the mistake,
the proof that people are beautiful, imperfectly,
but then sometimes you're my conscience,
the apology blurting from my mouth.

sometimes you're the grace, the forgiveness,
the validation that “it’s okay, you know better now.”
"it's okay, you're only human."

sometimes you're not even a person,
sometimes you're the stray cat
purring on my doorstep
and i'm a grumpy old man
who didn't expect
you’d be exactly what i needed
until you were curled up
on my chest.

i don't know if we always cross paths,
or if we're always best friends,
but God help my soul in the universes
where you and i never met.