how we began

soft clutch against an earthtone wall
a small hello, barely visible to the naked eye
except we both saw it, that subsurface want,
the inches it would take for collision
to mess things up so beautifully,
a walled-off construction site
with its stern instruction for hardhats
we happily disobeyed,
that's how we began.

and that's how we shuffled forward,
feeling the knots of ourselves coming undone
with each footfall, each nightfall, each time
the moon rose up in all her elegance
and bestowed her luminescent gifts
on our limbs, the bay outside
reflecting this easy acquiescence,
nodding us to sleep.

it would not be enough to say i love you.
it would not be enough
to exchange simple syllables for the grand expanse
of my heart, its tender-tempo'ed thumping.
it would not be enough to tell anyone precisely
how my eyes go soft-focus when you give
yourself to me, surrendering your neck to my shoulder,
your cheek to my lips, the small of your back
to my waiting palm.

Maya Stein5 Comments