Routine

Got a new doctor
Checked my blood pressure
Off the charts
He was concerned
But I wasn’t
Since I was thinking of you
Ordered a CT scan of my heart next
It was unthinkably enlarged
The technician was gobsmacked
But I wasn’t
Since it housed my love for you
EKG came back abnormal, showed no activity whatsoever
The nurses were petrified
But I wasn’t
Since my heart only beats around you
They didn’t believe me, of course
Until you walked through the door

How We Met

Sometimes I tell them
it was on a sun-drenched shore
and you came rising
out of the sea wearing
foam and algae and
seashells, always seashells,
a school of rare fish in your hair, too.

Other times I joke
you fell from the stars
and straight into my arms, with

pieces of cloud about you,
your skin all heaven-scented.

Once I even lied—
pretended we entered this world together
something like Jacob and Esau,
except I was holding onto your
hand instead of your foot.

But most of the time
I just tell the truth:
I don’t know how we met
I just know it was in a past life