YVONNE MORRIS
How will we meet in real life?

At a party, someone leans over and asks, "How did you two meet?"
And you say, I traveled through time to tap him on the shoulder
to let him know that I was waiting - and that I didn't want to wait
any longer

"That was it?" the someone inquires and you say, no, no, there
was much more to it than that - all the reminders "Reminders?"
someone is polite

Yes, you reply, all the cajoling, coaxing prayers, the early morning
pleading anxious working hours spent wondering instead,
the weekends when everyone else, you were sure, perfected
their patties on their perfect patios and you were left with your
dry-as-old-bones diary, endless dribbling journals feeling over
all the little dents in the banged up body of your life until
finally, running for cover you found shelter under a canopy,
and there, also waiting

with everything dripping wet and green all around, who should
you bump into in this pouring rain--all awkward umbrellas and
wrinkled raincoats - someone you hadn't seen before in this life-
time, but didn't it feel like it was just yesterday... but "wait, wait,"
someone is repeating, "what does this all mean?" and you're out
of breath, beyond redeeming, and you can only think to reply
that maybe (sometimes) love surrenders meaning, and, that,
you guess is how we met