the loveliest thing about you is you, and i will be forever stunned that you are glaringly oblivious of it. you see beauty everywhere, you point out that lines are making rhythm, shapes are carving edges, skies are forming to hues of blue with sleek corners, and lights are pouring in, into semblance.
you see a mirror, and you give it just one glance. then nothing more.
i see you, and the ground beneath shifted. suddenly i’m just a man in awe. how can you comprehend that the entire universe is standing less than three feet before you? smiling at you with eyes full of stars? asking you about your day?
you are my day. and my nights. my early consciousness, my seconds before slipping into sleep, my 12 pm when i get my break at work, my 6 pm when i’m in the train on the way home. and today i am your 8 pm, holding your coat while you’re making your way to the dining table. my mind went to a memory of you admiring the raw exposed concrete of that house on the lakeside, saying the texture and cracks against the sunlight is poetic, but right here, right now, i would argue that the firm tapping sounds of your high heels against my own concrete floor is more rhapsodic.
you asked if i will join you, cheekily. i noticed moon beams making a home in both of your dimples. honey glow. i hang your coat and smiled, of course, i made you steak, rare medium, just how you like it. do you want carbanet with that?
(in the drafts, from 24 september 2019)
furrodette 