Are we romantic?
We’re certainly fluttering

each time we disturb each other’s hair,
finding a chance to dictate
a care for our company;
yet we’re so obviously complicated.
I’m combing through reasons why
we are not an item
and I’m not sure if they matter.
We stand in vibrations underwater
and reminisce about how much
we loved the grouper
floating around with her aquarium friends
and you cry into my shoulder
as you remember your friends gone away.
As I write this you walk in the room
and my brain smiles because of your voice
but I’m not sure.
Are we romantic?