For Jen, who else?

How do I love thee? Let me count a way.
Thou art more orchidaceous than an orchid,
which is obvious, which is to say not ghostly,
for gods’ sakes, you so vibrantly alive, your
flesh opening sesame, quivering or quiet or
modest, though you have little cause to be modest,
darling, or merely drably interesting.

When we met, after all, how many years ago,
you came out not a debutante, or flame, or
fragrance, though you were all of these, but
flower, to be specific, terrestrial or epiphytic
plant of the Orchidaceae family, of temperate
and tropical regions, having showy flowers,
and you’re showing me even now, my lady, how
many incredible years later, and I’m telling you
here and now, my love, in the blooming moment,
my love is pure grateful astonishment.