On August concrete outside
the City Line Target I saw you,
an out-of-place Latina, arms full
of lightbulbs, conditioner,
nail polish, and a printer.

The first shuttle was almost full
so I waited for the next one.
It was one of those days where
patience came easy and there
was nothing on the schedule.

Then divine inspiration filled my sails
and I was struck with an all-consuming
sense of purpose, so I asked if I could help.
You had it covered but obliged.
We sat together on the bus.

I carried your printer across campus
and you had Rodney sign me in.
It wouldn’t be hard to set up
but I insisted. Plus, I wanted to know
why your hat said Life is Good.

“I got it at Ron Jon Surf Shop.
It reminds me of home.”
I asked why you came to Philly
and you said something about
opportunity, or maybe identity.

You’d been on campus for a week
but hadn’t seen much of Philly,
only the highlights. You invited me
to play soccer on Sweeney Field
and gave me your number.

“Camille was my babysitter’s name,
you know. She was like my grandma.”
I was never much of a pickup artist.
I’m still not but will never need to be
because the grandma line did the trick.

You smiled so big that for a second I forgot
what was real and what was too good
to be true. I saw the earth in your eyes,
the future in brown hair falling on soft skin.
I wasn’t falling for you when we first met

but something about you made me forget
everything I once knew. It was you, etching
your Brazilian song in my lily-white heart,
The printer girl, traveler of the world,
stepping into my world and turning it

upside down, silencing my soul’s cries
for help. I wasn’t looking for love
but you found me. I wasn’t looking
for a relationship but God always
gives you what you need

You are the ink in my heart’s tray.
Without you I’d be a clunky black box,
a paper weight and one colossal waste of space
that turns on but never connects nor makes
because a printer can’t print without

that which blots the page. One day white pages
would transform into love poems like this one
but better. Imagine the stories we could write
together, side by side, starting as best friends
and staying best friends till the end.

You made me believe that even little kids
who didn’t have friends might find love,
and if that’s not proof of God then I’d lose
hope in things above. But you gave me hope.
You are my hope, a wellspring of embraces

I never knew I needed, a Polaroid wall
of memories I never knew I wanted,
an adventure-loving, dog-hugging,
dumpling-making, sweater-wearing
wonder woman, growing to love herself

and this fool more every day. You are
the gift I never asked for and will never
deserve. All I can do now is give thanks
and honor you, meu fedido, for loving me.
I promise to always love you too.