how does the universe know
i love frozen fountains?
and church bells
and jet trails
and popcorn clouds
and boys with bright eyes?

travelling, patio, windows
door wide, arms wider and, "hey!"
i have to swallow the phrase,
"it's been so long"
because the air quit being cold
and the street quit being loud
and my mind quit caring which way my hair was blowing
and every speck of me has been held by this man before

behold, comfort at its finest

i want to touch him again
not that i need to
i can't help but feel like we are
already interwoven
and right away, language fails me
but maybe that's okay
maybe it's enough to be silently amazed
for a second, or several

how come the nickels shook as i took my change?
why couldn't i thank the barista before clearing my throat?

alas, we savor the saccharinity
in how cinnamon compliments cream
as pb&j suddenly goes with oreos

still, how can i sneak a glimpse of those eyes
without parching my windpipe again?
and how does he laugh at my jokes
and clap to my tunes
and how come i haven't known this precious soul for all of my life?

of course, how can i be certain
that i haven't?

salt and pepper bricks and broken glass
graveyard tales and a christmas tree in february and,
"we should go star gazing sometime!"
although i swear i've already seen the stars with this man
maybe even numbered them, named them
may have very well visited each and every one of them, too

"look at that light streak in the sky!"
because it's cool, but it doesn't amaze me
because i'm coming to realize
i could watch the moon rise up purple
over a lagoon full of lightning bugs
and it wouldn't be a lick more extraordinary than strolling across an empty parking lot
alongside this man

my chest sinks and soars synchronously
i've been here before
not this bench
but right beside the other heartbeat
upon it

trunk, guitar
treasure chest, citrine
instant homecoming

how can swapping songs resemble
taking an oath?
how can nineteen years amount to a mere ode to this moment?

scorpions, lions, and a pom-pom dog
he mentions his grandmother's passing
and his uncle's illness
and my chest wrenches like it did when
daddy mentioned mama's cancer
all those years ago
albeit, time does not drag
only dissipates into the freedom
that follows
after some puns and dumb questions
about antique bean grinders
which don't feel so dumb after all
because he doesn't seem to think so

i'm not nervous, not really
just in awe

i hate to admit, i lost track of the lyrics
for his song felt like a lifetime of its own
and the butterflies quit tremoring about
so my existence could hitch
with his cadence
for each chord he strummed
struck a nerve and
stuck more arrows
through my heart and
i'm sure
i've come to a
conclusion
one of which i can't express in the moment
one of which i have a feeling
will put words to shame anyhow
but nonetheless,

i have heard this song before

perhaps, i used to live in it
and he in mine
perhaps, this is what resurrecting
sounds like

the strange isn't so strange anymore
my nose drips, my finger bleeds
courtesy of winter
and i could kind of care less
because he's speaking french over there
he's sharing stories of karaoke and concerts and kangaroos
and i'm getting drunk on every word
he's saying my eyes are pretty
and i'm blushing and struggling to imagine an adjective that tells him
just how much prettier his are

mirror shattered
before we reached it
maybe we don't need it anymore
not when we can look into eachother
and just know
i want to reflect him, i want to shine for him
and i want to wonder why
yet i don't

there's no time
it must have slipped and died back in the coffee shop
somewhere between the first hug and the first sip

somewhere between muddy creek cafe
and low gap
and ireland
it starts to feel like less of a small world
and more like fate

somewhere between the second hug and the see you laters,
the sun set in sheets of ocean and heaven
and somewhere between the gold and shades of blue
i saw it
so this is what his eyes are made of

how does the universe know?