(Note: I wrote bits and pieces of this poem years ago when I first met a certain boy I liked. I was an awful poet back then (still am, actually) so I never bothered to show it to him, but we ended up dating anyway. Today, exactly two years hence, it seems liked a good idea to finish what I started, and, more importantly, to properly preserve a moment that changed both our lives forever.)
Our eyes met but once,
brief, desultory. Somewhere in
the distance a burning ball of fire
laid claim to a singular planet.
Glaciers rose and fell,
swallowed up by a fathomless
sea. A baby let out its first cry.
Bombinating bees stole nectar
from an unsuspecting flower.
Two lovers danced, laughed,
cried, forgot the taste of
each others names. The tip
of the Great Pyramid fell, crumbled,
melted into the boundless Nile.
All in one infinite epoch,
your lips, aquiver, turned to smile.
Our brief dalliance paused;
You laughed at a joke you didn’t hear
I tucked my hair behind my ear
Somewhere, whilst stars fell to disuse,
a possibility rose to formation.
Our eyes met again (twice).
I wondered, briefly, as laughter
and conversation floated amid,
if I’d ever retell this tale.
(As it turns out, I did.)