smile, rosemary

eight

her

three neat knocks
are heard on the door,
and i jump in my seat.

my mom opens the door,
even if i warned her not to,
and says hello to a smiling south.

he is handsome;
well cleaned up.
the shirt he wears
embraces his upper body.

"hi, ma'am. is rosemary here?"
"yeah, she is! who might you be?"
"i'm south lee, miss. i'm taking your daughter out."
"on a date?"
"on a frientervention. it's a friend intervention."
"and why should i trust you with her?"

he gives her a big smile;
"because i care about her.
she matters a lot to me and my
main mission right now is to
make her happy."

his smile widens
when he sees me,
i wave goodbye to
my mother and
shut the door.

"lookin' great," he says.
"thanks."
he opens the car door.
"did ya get dressed up for me?"
"drive, south. just drive."

-
him

i stop in front of
the art gallery i
want to show her;
because there's a piece
i need her to see.

"what's this?" she asks.
"just wait, okay? this is
part #1 of this whole thing."
"okay."

i grab her hand and rush
inside, knowing exactly
where the painting is.
i stop in front of it,
she doesn't let go of my hand.

it is a parallel painting
between a sunset and
a sunrise, the way they
are so uniquely different
from each other.

my concentration is
on her hand in mine,
but i try to say the few words
i've practiced for this painting.

"rosemary, in a sunset,
it's like the way someone
dips into sadness. the sun
allows the moon to arrive.
but even if there's darkness
in night, there is a light shining.

in a sunrise, though,
it is the moon kissing
the earth goodbye, because
the sun will take care of it.
even in the day, you can see
the moon. but you only notice
its beauty at night."

her eyes stay on the
painting, captivated by
its simplistic beauty.
she reminds me of an
art piece herself; made
to be loved and understood.

"my point is, no matter
if you're in the deepest pits
of the night or the striking
moments of the day; there
is light. and if there is light,
you can know that you're
not alone. and that you'll
be okay. because someone
cares about you and they
always will."

"that made zero sense,"
she says, and squeezes my
hand, and lets go. "but i get it."

"let's go," i say. "time for the next step."
"you know," she walks with me. "you make
zero sense. but i make less than zero sense."

"i know. you're a mess in your
own way and i'm a mess in mine,
but two messes together make
the best kind of mess."
-
my babies