You Said It First

Today
you said it first.

Unprompted.

I feel giddy,
like the time
I held the back of the chair
and let him drop
two-inch stripes over my back
again
and again
and again.

I know you think
it should be him,
but it’s you.
And it wasn’t who
we thought it was,
it was him.

And all the pronouns
in the world
can’t obscure
how you fit me.
How we match.
How you have been
the best thing for me.

I will be imagining
your brown eyes
and your perfect smile
long after you have realized

I am worthless to you,

and I will hold to this one day
as proof that at least for one moment,

I was beautiful and beloved.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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