The First Time What

The first time I saw your face
escapes my memory,
has no bearing on subsequent history,
exists as a figment of probability.

It is a fact.
I once saw your face for the first time.
That is, one time that I saw your face
had to be the first time.
But neither that time, nor the next,
nor probably the six or ten times
that followed, exist for me.

Whenever I look into your eyes,
that is always the first time.
That is when you begin to exist.
That is when love is possible between us.

1989