I fell in love with you twice before Tuesday.
Once - when you were stirring the pot of soup
And again - when you unzipped my insecurities
And left them in a pile on the floor.
Don’t get a big head about it though.
I also fell in love with the lady at the convenience store
Because she tied my tulips with a bow
And the four o’clock sun
Because it said my name with a trilled r
Fine. I love your Everest shoulders.
And how your voice deepens when you wear a tie
But - I also love the stranger reading Tolstoy on the treadmill
And the sound of waves beating their existence on the sand.
I love the secrets that hide in a glass of wine
And days where the sky rides on my shoulders.
I love books in foreign languages
And old wives shouting at deaf husbands.
Courage. Jazz with closed eyes.
One hand on the wheel. Autumn.
I love cigarettes after fighting.
Hope’s prying fingers.