She gave me two little bow ties
topped with pesto;
from her fork to my mouth,
it was delightful
and fragrant
like her hair after a shower.
I giggled
and she laughed, not knowing
how much that gesture meant to me.
For it was then time stopped
in our little corner
against the wall
of the Italian restaurant
we both adore.
It wasn’t the first time
she fed me so sweetly
her food and soul.
It wasn’t the first time
the crowd froze
as we gazed
ever so briefly
into each other’s eyes.
But it might have been the first
I’ve confirmed
what my heart already knows
of what her heart knows.
Beyond words; beyond
sweet nothings
and late-night conversations
about everything moving and still
around the planets and the stars.
Beyond truth
is truth
of the highest kind.
The kind that makes you certain
a laugh is not a laugh,
but a confession
of words coveted
but said
in the profoundest of fashions.
Like a cappuccino
that needs no sweeteners
for the cup is pure.
She is the North Star
not of my own decisions
but of the universe’s.
Her smile governs
the obedience and alignment
of masses big and small
in the sky.
They expand because of the years
she has yet to share
with this pale world,
to keep time stretching
beyond its limits
and keep objects in check
of their shapes and forms.
And every particle
knows its name and identity
because the world has learned hers.
Because I learned hers.
Because the World Has Learned Her Name
July 2, 2023
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