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I meet his eyes and uncover such beauty
all at once, all in that instant &I cannot look away.
My chest becomes a peppermill
&my heart pops and cracks &wrenches toward him.
Leaping, I am the morning catch of a fisherman’s net
& I brave such rivers flooded by his might,
but kept at bay by the tenderness of his touch
Or is it the timbre of his voice?

He has never been mine
our lips are strangers;
but our hands have brushed-
& I have studied every fold of every curve
of every layer of his skin.
I swear our minds have met-our eyes have bonded.
The edges of his mouth turn upward in conversation
And I smile at this man, like a child witnessing the divine.
In awe of the sincerity of his delivery.

He is the only man- so beautifully human.
& my heart paces on his whim-
Paces like my feet when I think of how to tell him
that I want to be closer to him than the ink of his tattoos:
I envy their proximity &admire their method
of getting under his skin &into his blood
Which leads to the source of this whole production.

This morning I thought of him as my pancakes started to bubble
&crisp around the edges-wondering how he takes his coffee.
I whistled softly to myself & knew it was love.