She called me “Graves” in a dream last night.
I forgot she used to call me that.
She was sometimes romantic when I served her food.
I was always romantic; she was rarely in that mood.
She had a smile that was angry underneath.
She had beautiful eyes and beautiful teeth.
When rivalry in animals is seen, we are not surprised;
When we see it in our lover it bewilders us, disguised.
She once sent me a text out of the blue,
Which said only, “I love you.”
She knew how to hint, tease, to evince
Despair. I saw that and I’ve never been as happy—before, or since.