It will be hard to let go of your smile.
It will be hard to let go of the first time I saw your smile,
saw it fully.
about halfway through our first date,
(without saying anything to each other --
it will be hard to let go of how wonderful that felt)
we somehow mutually decided
that we felt safe enough
to sit across from each other at an outdoor café,
to unmask – like the bandits we were,
or were not,
I saw your smile for the first time that day.
I saw it for the first time in my life, for the first time ever,
for the first time, you showed your smile to me --
and it felt so huge, so precious! because
it was the first time we ever spent together.
Your smile changed your face.
I saw your laugh and I heard it.
It will be hard to let go of that moment.
It will be hard.
It is hard
that after our fourth date
you forced me to let go of you.
I had to let go of your laugh,
your long, curved nose,
your dense brown hair which – this surprised me --
was paired with a white beard,
to let go of the way your hair felt
tangled up in my fingers,
to let go of
your inexplicable, completely authentic
dyed-in the-wool New York accent –
which made no sense to me after I found out that
as a kid growing up, you lived in New York for only one year --
then moved on.
You had me fooled.
Hard to let go of the sound of your voice, slightly nasal,
you spoke slowly
punctuated by smiles.
Hard to let go of the way you made me laugh.
It will be hard to let go of how your chest looked
the first time I saw it bare,
of how much you loved having me run my fingers slowly
but purposefully up and down the length of you.
It is so hard to let go of
your six guitars decorating
the walls and corners of your tiny living room,
of how they were crammed into
every available empty space
of your apartment.
It is hard to let go of that day
(which was only the third time we ever spent together)
that day, which was after
a day, and our first night, and then another day together,
so hard to let go of the time on that day --
when I finally was able to tear myself away
that time on that day, when I was finally able to gather up my things
It is hard to let go of how you said
no, not before I play for you.
I don’t want to let go of the moment
you picked up your blue guitar,
looked at me.
I will never forget how you looked at me
I don’t want to forget
how I felt in that split second of time
when you looked at me,
how your eyes lingered,
I don’t want to forget your smile
as you laughed,
and began to play for me.