that when we are dancing in our living room
and I look you in the eye
as if there is something small and precious
imprisoned in there and say to you
with a voice that massages it’s fingers
over the hair of our favorite vinyl
that’s playing in the background
Mi amor, did you know that its takes
over 66 days on average to form a habit?
When you reply correctly,
as you always seem to do when I ask you
questions about psychology,
I’ll probably just laugh, rejoicing over the fact that
every time you smile it makes the wrinkles on the
corner of your eyes look like willow branches
all lifting their heads from prayer in unison.
And just as our song comes to a close,
I will whisper into your ear,
how did you know that I was the one?
How did you find my faint voice of woes
through the cat calls of masculinity?
When all of the well-equiped shackles
came galloping to your door
begging for the right to your ring finger
what made you lock the deadbolt on your ribcage
looking at them square in the face and say with joy
that your are saving all of your beauty
for a man who you’ve yet to even meet.
When I was 19 years old, 49 states away,
I dreamt of you nightly — I hunted for your smile
in every poem I wrote, hoping that I could
literally steal a glance, download it on to my retinas
and replay the moment our eyes first played freeze tag
and neither one of us wanted to stop being “it”
so our eyes just kept touching hoping that
Father time would give us a hall pass,
and allow us to orbit one another forever.
And speaking of orbits, did you know that
there are more stars in your eyes than grains
of sand on the entire planet and that I would
give you either one if you merely asked?
Or I’d ask God to lend me the breeze
so I could blow every shoreline
of every beach into an hourglass
made specially for us, and say
this is exactly how long I will adore every
idiosyncrasy about you that no one else
even bothers to notice, like your facial gestures
and how they remind me of the beauty in
Frida Khalo’s portraits, your fondness of Italian food
and how you’re always happiest with a plate of pasta
in front of you, or your intoxicating giggle and how I can
play it’s tune every time I close my eyes like the voices
of two lovers reciting their vowels on their wedding day.
When I first saw your face
I thought to myself there is my moon
and maybe I can be your sun
and maybe our love could be the transition between the two.
Maybe love is a University that we both attend for free
and we’ve been studying here for all these
decades because we are both geniuses.
And when you ask me about us,
I’ll probably just laugh.
Giggling, like I’ve got a handful
of diamonds in my throat and I’ll say see, I told you
the biggest heartbeat God ever made
and now it’s all yours.
If you get the chance, tell your significant other you love them
tell them in Spanish