Blessing of Days

This is how I met you:
at a party, you
playing the slattern
with convincing conviction,
impressing with wordplay
and natural affection.
After a moment
you kissed my forehead
which may well have been sweaty
as even then
at the first
I found you irresistibly hot.

You were gone, afterwards
just as the one I had gone there to see.
She would have little to do with me
and while I was broken for a bit
because of her rejection
I found something that day
well worth living for.
I found you.

This is how you met me:
lurking, looking on.
Glancing from a distance
you hopped over to me
and asked what my deal was.
More: you patiently waited
as I faltered and flounced my way
through an explanation
of out earlier encounter,
which you had been too drunk to recall.

Why did you smile?
Why did you take an interest?
What was it
about my craven approach
that made you think
I might be worth you’re time?
What made you continue to tolerate my presence
for such a blessing of days?
I don’t know
and you might not either
but I felt lucky
that I had such times with you
including that first meeting
an event you never can remember
and one I’ll never forget.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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