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You are framed by a kind
of starry night that
my girlfriend painted
at a class where each brush
stroke is coached, and each
turned out different. Ours isn't
quite as surreal
as the original; love
returned rarely leads
to the best art. I see you here
in her normal seat, a crown
of blue with yellow swirling, and
with this whiskey-mouth can't
recall why I would focus
on you so narrowly
and ignore her for so many
evenings. Maybe it is that love
returned is work
I'm afraid I might be
poor at, but friendship
is easily maintained with
the sound of two glasses
kissing.
— H. Juul