For the day of the missed flight.

"It's all the mornings we missed for sleep, as the sun glides over our apartment..."  So what more can we do, but catch this one?  How amazing!  How mediocre.  How ours to say, this time around.

Maybe I would have felt more in-tuned, more in-awe, had the choice been made for him.  Maybe the miracle would have seemed more divine, than the plain truth of a choice.  Maybe I'm not used to being chosen -- even if only in part -- so as not to be able to recognize the distinct divinity therein.

It's those secrets you share in knowing everything there is to know about one another; the behind the scenes "Action!"; that Frances Ha moment.  It's the clearing of the mystery, out of your before-blurry eyes, just in time to see the magic unfurl.  "Once upon a time..."  I thought I knew the end to that story.  Now I just know better.  Now I know to wonder, what else?

Such a small, beautiful thing, and perhaps moreso in that so few will notice; give it more than a passing and uncertain glance.  But such a thing is, here, mine to behold.  If not to live first-hand, than blessedly, graciously, through the crystalline clear eyes out of which you
..................................................................................................................................glitter.
.....................................................................................................................................radiate.
........................................................................................................................................pulse.
...........................................................................................................................................look.

Suddenly back at me.

-L (6/17/13)