There is the moment before–
the end cap
on all the years before,
full to the brim
of everything else
but you.
The you-shaped space
an amorphous void,
its edges fuzzy.
There is the moment during–
the connection of eyes,
a noticing,
an awareness
of existence,
not yet knowing
who
you will be
to me,
who
the you
that is
will become,
so the moment after
only acquires
significance
later,
like the view
from the top
of a mountain–
invisible,
unknown,
until that
long
trek
upwards
has
been
made.
[scs_alt]
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