The first time I saw you, there was something I missed.
I caught your eyes- green, like the undersides of leaves in the wind of a storm.
The tan on your cheeks, fading from summer to fall.
Freckles flushed along your frame.
Your mouth- and its corners curled up, like our bodies entangled between sheets as we sleep.
I engraved that image of your entrance into my memory, like our initials etched in glass.
The first time I saw you, there was something I felt, something I saw, something I heard
That was as beautiful as experiencing a foreign culture for the first time.
The way the parts of your body synchronized like sentences that made
Songs with harmonies comprised of our heartbeats.
I knew I’d never look at the world the same again.