after you kissed me goodnight for the first time

after I’m already fond of you

after I moan in your ear, fully clothed

after I eat you like a peach, sweet and savory, juicy and dripping in the late afternoon light

after I take countless mental pictures of your smile, the curve of your collarbones, the way your curls fall forward when you kiss me, the way your ass looks on the bike in front of me

after I’ve started writing you poetry:

we take the dog for a sunset walk under anthropocene skies

I take your hand; you tell me stories

the world is on fire,

we walk through the cemetery and watch the dog run

“do you want to be seen? do you want to be loved?”

I scan your face in the darkness as the Milky Way begins to glow

****

before you put your whole hand inside me

before you drove away

before I listened to Darlin’ on repeat for days

before you called me ‘baby’

before Ellen Bass in the kitchen:

we sat outside sharing a blanket and a joint under the Milky Way

I settled into the cadence of your voice; you relit the joint

somewhere nearby a dog barked, and I thought, 

I could love you