Big Bang

Goldman Sachs training was the big bang of our relationship. In that huge auditorium on 30 Hudson, a bored glance to the left-front corner of the room, led me to a black hole of attraction. A slow big bang. An infinitesimally small explosion, gamma rays slowly radiating out, over a long, hot and heavy summer.

Your little black dress, slinking along on your skinny body — east coast moon eclipsing my California sun.

The way you strut across the room, back to your chair – I should’ve known you had been a sorority girl at Yale. Attending naked parties, doing weird things that I can only imagine George Bush did with other rich statues, dancing in Ivy.

Slowly, but surely, each joke and little emoji exchanged on communicator chat, little planets were formed. Moons orbiting my mind in the morning. A new life was created.