Maybe it was truth
Undiluted by obligation.
Because I felt so sure
Tracing the sentence on his arm
As we watched the movie filled with charm
In that full theater.
He voiced that declaration
Through a whisper in my ear
As we lay on the mattress,
Just as tangled as our hair,
One still unaware
Of the invisible cursive.
I had tucked those words under my tongue hours before,
Waiting for a moment
That would magnify them.
Now I say them back,
Make a note to keep track,
And hope he didn’t notice the resolve they lack.
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