She liked me because I made yam fries.
She liked me because of chopsticks on our first date.
She liked me because at all hours of the day,
Our stomachs growled in unison.
She liked me because I had dreams in my eyes.
She liked me because I’d read her poems I’d just written about her.
She liked me because every reason told her to be afraid,
But she’d still tuck her hand deep betwixt my warm nooks.
She liked me because when she licked, it tasted good.
She liked me because it wasn’t about the money, or the test.
She liked me because I liked it each and every time,
No matter how far we’d gone, or how loud we’d been getting there.
She liked me because we fought in the kitchen.
She liked me because I pinned her against the counter, frequently.
She liked me because she was changing me,
One smile after another, one spell after the other.
She liked me because I’d let her buy dark chocolate.
She liked me because I dug deep for strength.
She liked me because it just wasn’t the same,
When roads pulled our hands and spaces awaited patiently.
And I like her just the same.