I’d seen you before — moodily stalking off somewhere,
listened to you speaking to friends by my side, but you never noticed I was there.
And then one day, with a group of friends, we gathered
When you said hello to everyone but me, I assumed my presence didn’t matter.
“Hey.” Handshake. “What’s up!” Friendly hugs
Idly watching the passerby, I didn’t bother to look up.
Until suddenly your body was obstructing my view,
And you softly kissed my mouth as soon as I looked at you.
Seven years and two daughters later, I still have no regrets.
Even if, to this day, you insist “The kiss” happened the day we met.