Did others ever love before we met—
you in my arms within the womb of night?
How could they know what we alone have known,
or see what we beheld within our eyes?
Oh, give me not again the lie that love
awoke before we kissed. The poets wrote
but prophecy and others aped their lines
as actors who will stage an ancient farce.
But none before could know such bliss as I
with you, and you with me. For joy was birthed
with our first kiss and love awoke as had
been prophesied across the centuries—
you in my arms, my name upon your lips—
which I avow with yet another kiss.