You find patterns
in everything
and I am just beginning to notice this about you.
You watch documentaries,
and tell me all about them.
One was about
a nanny turned photographer
capturing strangers
mid-conversation-
I like your summaries
better than the stories themselves.
Someday, you, too
will take great photographs
and the world will know your name
before you're deceased.
I'm sure of it.
We walked through a field of glowing grass,
and you tried to touch each blade.
It began to rain,
I wiped a stray droplet onto your nose
and kissed your eyelids.
You laughed at me,
tried to annoy me,
hold my hand in different ways,
push me
off the sidewalk-
I stepped in dog shit
but you insisted
it was human...
I listened to you spin your story
and was reminded of how lovely
it is to peer inside your mind-
My glasses broke tonight
and yet I haven't seen this clearly
in what feels like forever.
I'll tell you "let's do this,"
this time, without any liquor
if it means I'll prove my devotion
to you
and this time
we have together.
I don't care what you call me,
or who knows I exist,
as long as you keep kissing me
with as much electricity
as I felt when I first met you.