when you loosed clouds into the air through your teeth, and i marveled at your cigarette smoke turned graceful dancer; when you said i'm your best friend; when you were laughing and i wasn't there, but i could feel it; when we were fucking and you were way too loud, and we could hear the neighbors hearing us, and it didn't matter; when you picked up a book i'd have left for another day and split it open; when you smiled then left your lips open just a moment longer; when i looked at you for the very first time, before you'd ever seen my face and then you turned, and i saw the whole room open into a field of color; when you were tired and i teased you, i called you "yawny-poo" and you said it sounded like "yoni poo," and we both side-eyed each other, and you stuck out your tongue, and i laughed, i mistook you for a flower, and you called me a silly poet, and we were dizzy on wine and color, and it wasn't too much, and it was overflowing, and i felt my lungs fill with perfume, and i was drowning in it and i could still breathe — darling, i learned how to be overwhelmed by you.