I like watching couples. They have composed a mythology of themselves, a web of discrete and idiosyncratic meanings at whose center they lie. Things travel between their glances, their smiles that you will never know, because it is the secret histories of lovers.
the mythic resonance of you and me
nestled, a throbbing egg of urgency
the total sum of the secret histories
written on our flesh by a tattoo of kisses
and trials of tears after windblown rages