Was it just the wondrous weather
or love at first sight?
While thinking on it, I surmised
that the joy in seeing you
had absolutely nothing to do
with the warming star overhead,
the sky’s soft blue, or the air just right.
Naysayers would shake their heads
saying that I felt nothing, a reaction
of the eyes, a physical longing, substandard
and secondary to something real,
but they must never have felt what it is
to have everything stop, seemingly for an eternity,
held within seconds, life’s movements,
including the breath while all that is wished for
is to bend at the knee to look up at you,
not in worship, but in an attempt to know
everything of who you are, who you will be.
Wasn’t it love when I wished the best for you
within that moment I knew you?
I watched you suck on a cigarette, stepping
out of a car already overflowing with smoke.
I’d have taken the pack from your pocket,
swiftly snatched the cigarette from your hand,
used the bottom of my shoe to destroy
that dangerous stick, to extinguish it
hoping that I could light up
your life with something else.