I recognized him, not by his ruffled hair,
But by the way he ran his fingers through it.
Not by the clothes he wore,
But the way it shook as he nervously bounced his leg
Like this was our first date again.
Not by his bag or flowers,
But by the scratchy marks on his coffee cup
Showing how picky the boy is.
When I sat across from the boy, so familiar,
I knew it was him by the tinge of a smile
When he made a joke.
And by the way his nose scrunched up
When he realized his coffee was still not right.
And the rhythmic tapping as he stirred more sugar in
Just so he can make jokes about me
Being as bitter as coffee when he returns.
He could look completely different,
And I would still know him better
Than I know myself.
For, when we said goodbye,
I recognized him not by his lips,
But by his kiss.