We skipped the movie.
It rained hard and
We didn't want to
Change out of our

Slouching clothes
(She'd bought me a pair of

PJ pants, as comfortable
As pure
Warm
******).
So,
Full of sushi and
Wine

We reclined in a pile of two
On the sofa.
Flashes of lightning on a

Horizon growing
Darker with
Each roar of its
Brother
Thunder.

Even the gods are
Celebrating us,
She whispered, raising
Glass towards the
Open balcony
Door; then me.

Happy one-month-
Anniversary,
Baby.

A poet, still baffled by the
Straight forward, no-poetic-bull-
****-card she'd written me,

I raised mine back, caught a
Glimpse of a bolt
Splitting the
Sky down the
Middle like a

Sudden
Snapshot of
Some
Celestial open-heart-
Surgery,

Glanced at her
Beautiful hand in my
Not-so-beautiful one, and

Replied, exhausted with
Young infatuation and
Equally

Exhilarated:
I'm so ******* in
Love with you, girl. I
Give up.

I am.
I do.