You could say I’m a troublemaker,
arriving to shake things up on land
or water. It’s true — I wanted to get
you alone. A coxswain, I maintained
a safe distance, knowing that when we
collided, it would explode like a luminous star.
Turmoil, I admit, once found me
like a boat sinking in the St. Johns.
But I knew to tread water & wait
for your steadiness, how you lead.
You offered me peace & the glow
of your smile opening like a lily
across your face.
Soon, I knew I loved you —
a documentary onscreen as the thought
of permanence appeared. Sometimes,
the world offers justice. I know
I earned you & this safety.
I can’t help but watch your capable
hands on the steering wheel. You get us
where we need to go. We know
our roles & how to move like this —
always in tandem. I’ll list the chores;
you complain. I’ll cook the salmon;
you feed the dogs. It works.
This love was inevitable, the risk
be damned. So here we are: an eye
toward our wedding, our hands
clasped together. That day in August,
as our friend sang, the guitar echoed
toward the live oaks as I answered
yes, yes, you.