I
With precision and care she undoes the clasp, slowly drawing the chain about her neck until it is secure. Long fingers trace the gold, brushing the flesh around her collarbone comfortingly. Fingertips touch the tiny cross, tugging gently. “What are you doing to me?” she whispers.

“Time,” her daddy said. “Faith,” she thinks to herself, setting aside the past where doubt and worry were her enemies. And the water, cool and sweet, tripping up into sky blue dreams is almost palpable.

II
She falls, lightly laughing, her resolve waning
In a lyrical language of articulation
And all those words she’s found in the past span
Of time become the clarity of forbearance.

III
Today would have been my seventeenth wedding anniversary.
Tomorrow is a new day, bright and clear.

IV
“Fascination, attraction, passion may be born “at first sight”. Love is not. Loves requires knowledge and knowledge requires time.” - the Psychology of Romantic Love

She was nervous, afraid there would be no attraction despite their conversations. She knew she liked him too well already. Barely enough time to take in his full measure, she stepped forward wetting her lips at the same time he moved in for a kiss. And the Texas sun was warm as her face flushed deep. She moved forward through the day without intent.