the first time i made you laugh

there was an attraction to chance,
when the days of eternal vitality were far before us
and the depth of hidden meanings magnified
our new fate.

blown by gusts that i will call impulses,
and proceeding from cold wisdom
that rioted with the heat of passion,
you cracked me open.

it was subtle how you did it,
standing in the dark before me;
i'd known you just for the length
of a quietly passing moon.

up until then, we'd become measured in tone
and deliberate in the conscious
approaches to each other's
closed door.

when, in that moment, that
feeble dusky instance, there was
a subtle shift in whatever temperate air
that floated between us;

and i ventured, when you looked
at me, to bridge (to span) that gap
with something inane, some silly
suggestion that made you laugh.

and i think it was then
i'm sorry
i know it was then, when
your expression bloomed,

when your eyes became my fable
when your lips my inclination
when your cheeks my exploit
when your voice my ovation

that i fell in love