Hey, Girl

A poem to myself

Circa 2003

Love is connecting
with all of your selves, at last —
Looking fondly at
all of the faded,
old photographs stacked neatly
inside the shoebox.
It’s coming across
that one picture you’ve always
liked and staying with
it for a long while —
Saying, “Hey, girl, I don’t know
what it is about
you exactly, but
there’s something in your presence
that captivates me.”
You set the picture
apart, hang it on the wall
for further, deeper

Hey, girl — I’m here now,
listening, ready.