Our Country

by Thomas Laboucan-Avirom

I loved you like a foreign country.
The first few weeks was nothing but
New experiences, new smells,
A seemingly new timezone.
But, after a time, I began
to miss my old country, my old self.
I wanted to push you away, get out,
        but I stayed.

Now, many moons later, I am used to it.
I kind of forget my old self.
Your smell is now the smell.
Our food is now the food.
My new love is now the love.
In all its realness,
all its heartache,
its new language.

My love, I am your citizen.
And though neither of us have moved,
Our love is a foreign country.