I Think It Must Be

The day was the fifth of March

There was no particular occasion to be had

Besides the unexpecting you to come.

*

Meanwhile, I am caught in a cloud of change

Hoping to soon catch a break

Unknowing the ache would leave after the fifth of March.

*

And so, I crinkle my linen dress that rests on the bench,

My fingertips feeling every thread

As my head whirls vicious thoughts of anxiousness.

*

If only I knew what would soon be in front of me

I could maybe ease into a deep breath

But the death of the sun creates a cold frenzy.

*

Then a shadow creeps up as tall as a tree

And my skin is pinched with bumps

I become as still as a stump until the darkness moves.

*

Moves closer and closer until I can see

It is not a shadow, it is you

and your baby blue sweater welcomes a grin.

*

Is this how it feels to look and love?

Even without knowing the person

Or if this care will worsen and swell with time?

*

I think it must be.

*

Because why else would my heart

Turn into a bass guitar

And the spar in my mind could clear.

*

Because why else would I spend

The rest of my day

Reeling at the way your smile crooked.

*

Because why else would I have talked to you?

I don’t talk to strangers

So the chambers of my heart stay closed.

*

I think it must be love.

*

I didn’t know you then,

Not like I know you now

But somehow, I fell.