All Your esques And ishes

All your esques and ishes,
all your silent smiles,
all your news-clipped collages,
all your sexless pouts:
all my reasons to adore.

"I'm insanely happy I
know you," you'd write,
and I'd grin at the distant
possibilities I dreamt in my
distant unconscious.

You'd write from your window
one night "I wish that I saw
you outside" and my infatuation
with Futility began winningly.

"Merry Christmasesque."
"I've got stuff to doish."
And other curiosities that
made me fall in love with
a lesbian, if only for winter.