when I give my heart.
04/25/04|9:45 p.m.

and I had been holding you, nearly the whole time. you'd held me some, too, especially in the beginning, when the woman spoke about Rogers and the past three years. but mostly I just held you, and stroked your hair, and all-of-a-sudden knew it was right to lean over and kiss your cheek. I pulled back right afterward; still stroking you, I pulled my mouth away, and found a smile on your face where I had left my kiss. your surprised smile, like I'd whispered a marvelous secret in your ear, like I had done something remarkable. and later that night, just before you disappeared so quickly, when you leaned in and blew me a kiss from an inch away. then from an inch away, seemed to change your mind, leaned closer and kissed my cheek as well. and the way we held each other then, your mom saying, "isn't it great that they're so close?" ...and we didn't even bother to roll our eyes because it is great, and she can't change that. ignorant of how great it is, or how we've managed it, all the same, she cannot change it.

all your talking with them about me. all your phone calls. all your love. all your daydreams. picking me out of everyone, loving me. writing my last name on your name tag because it's your name, too. and then neither of us putting them on.

and when I first saw you, skipping steps, green shirt, recently-red hair, when wide-eyed and grinning we grabbed hold of each other, shook and swayed, and laughed hysterically: pull back a second, let me see your face. are you really real? and close again. you're really real, you're really here. I really have a you, so marvelous. holding each other and laughing, laughing, laughing like we'd fooled the gods. laughing and grinning and shouting because we did it, actually. because it would take us the rest of the visit to find a better activity for our ecstatic mouths.

(in a pumpkin patch, I pick you. not because or in spite of any identifying mark. in a pumpkin patch, I pick you because our vines fit together, and I don't let go of what I know I want.)

and you picked me.

~me

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