It’s like a time bomb that's missing its ticker.

I never know when we're going to blow up.

Or a flower in a vase,

wilting petal by petal.

Impermanent love is like an unopened parcel

lying on the front stoop of an empty house.

Or like ice cream

that's melting too fast in the sun.

Loving you is like reading a book

I borrowed from a friend.

I laugh through a couple of pages,

Shed tears on a couple more,

Press my bookmark into chapter 18,

And put you away

So that I don't reach the end too quickly.

Yet I know I’m on borrowed time,

And you belong on someone else’s shelf.