I
stumbled the first time I met your smile,
all of
thirty seconds into our grasp
ing
flirtation, manifold happiness.
You use
innocence, I, embarrassment.
Now time
wearing, we seem both caught, in us,
through
us as without us – now’s distant love.
We send
postcard affections, less postage –
Yet when
I see you anew, I kiss you
Not
imagining, no metaphor, but
soften to
your lips as if our smiles touch.