1
You were new in the heart of my California,
coming home for the first time
with a blond streak in your hair for golden promises
and your gift of beauty for me
that made the light in my house change
from evening to dawn, beginning as it did in me.

You were standing in the heart of Asia
when I saw you the first time,
spellbound and intrigued by your eyes
that were not afraid to pierce the distance
between us, back straight like a brigade commander,
no nonsense for you in this game.

I went back to your picture for days
before I wrote the first email and hit send.

2
Your voice when we part for awhile is what I miss,
or the feel of your hand on my arm
as we cross the street sometimes. Remember,
you took my hand every time in the beginning
as if Cebu City traffic was going to finish me
if you didn’t hold on tight.

And you felt me early enough to know who I am
when trouble came my way out of the blue.
Every husband of your new friends here
took their own measure by me, fixers, doers
and masters of the home front putting me
away with the things, while you

defended my absent-mindedness with a loyal and
clear heart matching my own furious loyalty to you.

3
It took me a long time to find you, my love.
I had to cross an ocean and forget everything
my world told me about men and women, the
rules of the game you never heard of, so you’d
feel safe enough to try a crazy, brave thing,
to come with me into beauty.

Sure your hair may turn gray in time, but I didn’t
fall in love with your hair, love.
I didn’t marry your shape or how tall you are.
People change outside, it’s nothing new. When we
get where we’re going together in this life
I’ll remember all the questions you answered

for me about how to love you best, and if I
hold you tight and won’t let go, you will

because you love me.