i. spring
do you remember
the first time
you asked me to write you a poem?
you were nervous
and you blushed
when you finally
found the words.
little did you know,
i’d already penned several—
though, none i was happy with.
i started the first not long after we met.
it grew like a sapling,
burgeoning in dayspring.
there were so many times
i should’ve figured out
i was in over my head.
but i knew with some certainty
that i was doomed
when you graffitied anarchy
in the concrete
of D.C.
right then and there
i should’ve realized
i’d fall for you.

ii. summer
can you recall
the first time
we made love?
the window was open,
the curtains weren’t drawn.
but August air kissed our skin
and you had no patience.
you guided my head down  
and you bit your tongue
to keep from screaming out.
after you came thrice,
we collapsed in a heap
of sheets knotted  
from sweat and ***.
i read you Camus
while you lay your head
on my chest to tune-in
to the rhythm and blues
of a heart that beat
a melody for you.

iii. autumn
will you recollect
the first time
i broke down?
lost it on the drive home
from Goodwill
where we tried to find
Halloween costumes.
we were stuck in rush-hour traffic.
anxiety got the best of me—
had my skeleton rattling
beneath my skin,
hands trembling
on the steering wheel,
teeth chewing
off my tongue.
panic.
the sun was setting
and there wasn’t a ******* thing
i could do
to keep it floating
in the heavens.

iv. winter*
i can’t forget
the first time
you came to me with scars on your wrists.
i held you while you shook with sobs,
vomited in the toilet,
and cursed a non-existent god.
i danced with you in the living room,
sang to you on the way home from St. Pete,
and held your hand in the Dali exhibit.
i gave you every bit
of love i had left
but i was never enough.
November’s fraught with cold.
seasons slip and i am eclipsed
by your new fling.
i wish you nothing
but happiness,
Beloved. i still adore you
endlessly.