I saw you for the first time.
My eyes and my mind agreed on forever.
Well a couple of decades of us being together.
I walked slowly towards you and started to stumble.
Thinking of something smooth to say because you’re a bag I can’t afford to fumble.
If I were honest I’d tell you that you put a lock on my eyes and gave my legs amnesia.
I would treat you like we’re in the 90s and scream “I need ya”.
Or make you an omelette in the morning like I’m Darius and you’re Nina and life is Love Jones.
Normally I don’t get sprung at first sight but right now I’m imagining what our kids would look like with your hair and my complexion.
I imagine you yelling at me for bringing a used dish right after you finish washing.
I’m convinced that you’ll wipe my memory clean, erase the thought of anyone I was with before you.
Butterflies go down into my stomach as I clear my throat.
“Heyy, how are you?” I say.
A man comes and grabs you by the waist from behind as you smile.
“Hey. Can I help you?”
Those words, bullets aiming for the butterflies, shot dead and I feel the need to find a place to bury them.
“Uhm, yes. Where’s the bathroom?”