"explain to me
why you love him."
my mother once said
and i looked at her
for a moment
an image of you
popping into
my brain
"he's just,"
a pause
"he's just
perfect. all of
him. nothing
else can amount
to him the way
that that word
does." i said,
a small, broken
smile tugging
at the corners
of my lips
"no one is perfect."
"i know. at
least i did,
before him."
