When we tell our kids about how we met,
let it be like this:
how you saw me across the room
at some friends’ wedding
and you saw something
not beauty
or wit
– though, eventually,
you would uncover those within me
(through ridiculous effort),
but something distinct
something kind.

Tell them how you knew
immediately
that some association would be made
and if not that night,
then sometime after
for destiny was at work.
We were meant.

Tell them something of that history.
Explain it well
and please
keep quiet about stripper poles
and restraining orders.

Save that for the grandkids.