When a grinning face i already appreciate leans into mine with purpose, like they have been waiting for this invitation. A light inside me is seen, and sought; i welcome the approach with equal thrill. The spark driving their own delight is being extended that i might breathe fire right back, and i will. i have found this is a smile i’ll hold dear for much longer than it’s in my life. These are the lips of which i dream. The real stuff of those who’ve kissed me thus has since faded into simpler, more dependable memories: raging parties, empty city streets late at night, rocks with lapping waves. i can revisit the feel of a couch on which i trembled, a sidewalk i swaggered alone, the stench of salty brine, the sweetness of small kindnesses. Recuerdo nos raímos. Smiling, desirous faces so wholly, equally welcomed to share of each other. Sometimes we smiled so hard our teeth touched. Often i’ve been shaky, a little delirious. This is the kind of poetry that doesn’t hold through multiple seasons. It could be a fire that burned hot and fast, or sparks that didn’t fully catch. A sweet, bright bit of warmth in my heart’s hearth. We cannot repeat these moments, memories. Some of this exceptional heat will be felt again though, somehow: a surprise necessarily, an adventure inevitably. Indeed, i will settle for nothing less.