He asked what came before Happily After,
what had I done for fun,
late night parties or early morning jogs,
was I someone who made the bed
or fell asleep on the couch,
I tried to think back as I memorized
the lines that framed his eyes, and then all
thought was gone, like the years that came
before. I replied he shouldn’t judge. He mumbled an
apology then gently pressed his lips upon my forehead,
as if to read all my secrets, like some
deeply, hidden braille,
then his own breathing slowed
and I knew he understood,
the dangerous enigma before him,
I was a girl of two minds,
two fish, one at peace with the tide,
while the other heads upstream,
and no two days would be
the same. No man could
ever know which direction
I would go.
