I love you . . .
I’m pregnant . . .
Two words at the end
of a statement that make its surety . . .
And yet, was it not Descartes
who only needed the assurance of thinking
to know that he was?
And is not God called the Great I AM
because His thoughts are unsearchable?
And what is in your mind but
memories of me and us and where we
might be had things played out differently?
I think about it more than I ought,
and I’m never quite sure—
So, maybe you can ease my conscience.
Tell me, what do you think of me in this dress?
And how confident are you of the words
that escape the gate of your lips?
Think . . .
And maybe our love will BE.