Friday, February 14, 2014

Red Envelopes

So many young men have crumpled
backs from the wind,
clomping through Harvard Square holding
paper-wrapped bouquets.

Bisque points to a guy middle-age
outside the taco shop
penning a card.
"Last minute," he says
because his letter to me (the one with the s'more on it--
'I love you s'more every day')
is in his backpack
sealed, ready
for our date.

On Wednesday he left a vase of roses and
Reese's Cups on my kitchen table.
A tiny potted ivy for Ro. A pink flower for Rora.

Over high-end hazelnut cocoa
we hold hands.
We haven't been all day because there are children
to lasso. But they're all off
in the slushy streets. Doing
their own
stuff.
So we hold hands and we exchange red envelopes
(mine for him, two peanuts hugging)
with messages that sound
the same.

Every day is a better day.
The ultimate Valentine.

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