Kasey wrapped her arms
around my neck and kissed me
in front of her mom,
her dad, and she even kissed
me in front of the band.
The room stopped cold at dawn,
as our minds connected the dots
to the thoughts our parents observed
when we exchanged nervous gazes.
Our parents said it was love.
We promised it wasn’t.
But they knew it was love.
That’s what they knew.
Her parents knew it.
And my parents accepted it.
I thought love had passed by me alone
among my group of friends.
Kasey speculated that love withdrew its grace.
That is, until we crossed paths
that autumn afternoon when Kasey
bumped into me on her way to a graduate class.
She strolled with her head buried in her phone.
My books spilled onto the campus lawn.
Kasey stopped, twisted around, and swooped to help.
I told her to watch her lane of travel.
We made eye contact.
Kasey expressed regret, telling me she had crashed into fate.
She bit her bottom lip and pulled her long, red bangs behind her ear.
My face warmed, but my eyes softened.
She offered to buy me coffee.
I jumped at the chance to enter her life.
I didn’t know it was love until this Christmas party.
And our parents hadn’t seen us kiss until our wedding.
Not until now.