Paris often told Helen
that her hair falling down,
partially covering her beautiful face,
and her gesture to push it away
was the first moment he felt
the infatuation
that would alter and shatter his world.

Pygmalion must have spent hours
whispering to Galatea,
recalling the shock,
and the joy,
of his granted wish
when she took her first step
from the plinth.

Philemon and Baucis
whisper their truth
through their leaves
as trees
grown together, entwined

Romeo and Juliet
never had time
to look back.
So many didn’t.
There are too many famous lovers
soon parted by death.

Orpheus should never have looked back at all.

Lovers love to repeat their stories.
Where they met,
how they watched each other before.
Their song.
Their words.
They remind each other,
adding small details,
confirming their private and precious thoughts.

Kisses are careful punctuations
and seal every paragraph.
The ritual of repetition
strengthens fond bonds
to the last.