Ma(’)s Espacio

I got to watch,
and the love looked like pages of notes,
shaking in hands,
or being edited at the last. 

I got to taste, 
and the love tasted like fruit and salad,
squash ravioli,
coffee and chocolate. 

I got to dance, 
and the love moved like an invitation,
a summoning,
a collective swaying. 

I got to smell,
and the love smelled like the mountains—
light, chilled,
and wooden.

I got to be a guest,
and the night’s owners of love shared it with me. 
I got to see many people,
and listen to their life’s loves.