Never has she been impressed with grandiose
or of actions so epic, the crowd elates
She has never been one to expect romance
or of surprises so fancy that the audience across the room feigns delight
Oh—but those tiny things that happen in close doors
the unimportant gestures that are only discernable in closed caption
Those, to her, are even bigger than the promises of the world or stars or universe.
She meant the quiet excitement in your eyes
as you hand her half of your cute travel wet wipes pack
And the curve on her lips as she opened her palms wide.
She adored those tiny pastel wrappers. ‘You remembered,’ she thought.
Or the shy gaze on your wandering gapes after a fight
when you give her a bag of sweets and knickknacks
And the folding of her arms into a rear hug
because you got her that plain yogurt she liked. ‘you remembered,’ she thought.
The unpretentious consideration when you’re on your scooter, sun high up, and you are picking her up,
handing her a spare jacket because you know the weather is unbearably hot.
And the silent grateful sighs curving her lips when it touched her shoulders barely covered by her thin tank top straps.
‘You remembered,’ she thought while stealing a whiff of the familiar scent that was clasping her as she gracefully modeled this fabric that’s yours.
Or the number of steps it took you to close the gap from your room toward her giddy stance on the stairs,
a forming upturned curve on your mouth, and an appreciating glance in your eyes as you gently pat her hair thrice.
And how she memorized the slow transitioning smiles into mouthed ‘thank you’ because she knew you liked it when she made the bed without you telling her to.
‘I’ll remember,’ she thought. The tiny things you both do for each other in the stillness of others’ observing sights.
The slight electricity jolting in her skin when the lights are red,
and on your scooter, you brush your left palm on her knee
Or the hushed fear and tension that fades into oblivion when your cheek fills in the air to her chest, and she watches you fall deeper into sleep.
And the relief she feels for having someone who, for her, is soft,
and yet, for her, is strong as a rock.
So, she hopes you remember.
That even with all the grand and splendid things someone else might do to win her,
she would choose the constant silly, dainty love languages you do to keep her a million times over.
—the seemingly minute moments that hold significance