The other day
We kissed in public as bulbs flashed
The kind of display reserved for established things
We are a sandstorm
Unpleasant in unprepared eyes
Shifting and changing
But always happening
Whirling when least expected

Today I wore mesh
Felt the breeze on unchained nips
While you held my hand
Of all the multiplicities
You choose this
Daily
And I am gracious for being
The last choice you’ll have to make

Tomorrow I steady the course
Write another poem for you
Set sail into another uncertain
I dream of our routine
Of predictable evenings
Mundane romance few count as privilege
The stability
Of shared bedsheets and household chores

Now
Is not for writing
Now
My hands are busy reading your folds
Now
We are together
The poem in flesh