we ate pasta
and talked about
god and life
and remembering.

the cheese kept finding
the corners of my mouth,
and my napkin kept missing the mark —
making a mess of my face.

i had parsley and cilantro
in my teeth
and garlic on my breath,
but we talked like we meant it.
and I looked at you
and loved
that man.

i helped finish your bowl —
forking rotini with my fingers
licking goat cheese from my thumb.
savoring.