Impressionism [9-01-07]

The first time we met
Was at a house party for some neice or nephew or aunt many times removed.
There was dancing and revelry
The food was delicious
The musicians were tireless
The kitchens never closed
And the wine was fantastic.

I don't remember a lot from that night
But I remember meeting you
And greeting you
And the breif dance my father insisted we have.


The second time we met
Was on a peculiar kind of hunting party, deep in the very heart of the worst kind of woods.
I was so immersed in the hunt
That you hardly recognized me
Through my gaping maw
And guttural snarls
More monster than the monster we hunted.

You remember my father excusing me
While I wiped off the blood and gore
And made myself presentable
To this wonder who had stumbled across me at my worst.


The third time we met
Was on a retired battleship, sailing to the glittering isles just east of the archipegalo.
You had your hair tied back
And rope entwined in your palms
Working side by side with the sailors
To make sure the old girl flew
To her port on the other side of the map.

I looked much different then,
Less handsome
And much less composed
But you said you liked me better this way, so I didn't change a thing.

My father said to me, "The most important thing is a first impression."
For most people, it's true, but
A thousand impressions later,
You still take my breath away.

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Pnelma's Pen