I am not the first person you loved.You are not the first person I looked atwith a mouthful of forevers. Wehave both known loss like the sharp edgesof a knife. We have both lived with lipsmore scar tissue than skin. Our love cameunannounced in the middle of the night.Our love came when we’d given upon asking love to come. I thinkthat has to be partof its miracle.This is how we heal.I will kiss you like forgiveness. Youwill hold me like I’m hope. Our armswill bandage and we will press promisesbetween us like flowers in a book.I will write sonnets to the salt of sweaton your skin. I will write novels to the scarof your nose. I will write a dictionaryof all the words I have used tryingto describe the way it feels to have finally,finally found you.And I will not be afraidof your scars.I know sometimesit’s still hard to let me see youin all your cracked perfection,but please know:whether it’s the days you burnmore brilliant than the sunor the nights you collapse into my lapyour body broken into a thousand questions,you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.I will love you when you are a still day.I will love you when you are a hurricane.”