by Andrew M. Harbach13 Dec 2015
I say... I've met you lifetimes ago. I still edge to my seat, though. Perking my attention. Combing my demeanor. Tasting every motion of innocent predelication that you show.
The candlelight. Oh, the candlelight's mini but mighty glow over a draped cloth room with table covers and sweating glasses of water. This date - you have moons in your eyes. And for the moment, it is as if we woke up old to this table - and I found you, my best friend, a hand-holding reach away with a sugar smile and a kick under our chairs, telling me that we are home.
Forgiveness buried it all and has me thinking on how we were never apart even when we said we were. It was a lie that we both told ourselves, for we feared, and we feared hard. Anxious of rooting and growing no where. And worse more, no where together.
And yet 2:00am nights hold us awake altogether dreaming - where we let our spirits wander and uncage our hearts. Lo, I tell you in truth, when I met you, I untied those roots. I'm long lost ever finding, in you, meaning. And I watch as our storybook writes itself.
I always thought I perfectly knew you. By and in this I let myself be stoned and heavy. I talked and missed your meaning. And still assumed I got your message. Now I listen.
You sigh in silly astonishment. I breath in the moment and I kiss you only to have reality fall violently from the Christmas lit structures around us and into my heavy chest. A lost cat. Tiny talk of modern apartments with floating stairs. A teething love tossed into a December sky. I live for these magical moments.
We are we.
The pieces may look a little different here and there. But we have every color, and I wish to accentuate it all by painting your heart and by every God-loving porcelain chip, to make a mosaic that builds us - one - a pretty picture.