This new man held his hand up and

his fingers counted ‘four.’

That’s four times on this first date

I have mentioned my new book,

an unbelievably lucky find,

just purchased at a used bookstore -

Nepalese Textiles, clearly not a bestseller,

not easy to bring into the conversation,

but four times, so far, I have.

His hand isn’t counting down the chances I have

but counting up, beckoning my excitement

Go on. Tell me more.

My mind was back in Bhaktapur,

being laughed at by an Auntie who found my

fumbling attempts at crochet hilarious.

Her speed and precision made me still,

mesmerized by the grace in which she crafted.

Cotton yarn spinning into details faster than

I could process her hands move, let alone

mimic them.

I spared him the details of my travels,

but my skin flushed, nostrils flared,

I found a book on Nepalese Textiles

Five. An open palm.

This moment where my interests meet,

an obsession since seven with a country, and as

I sit in a hand knit shawl,

my current fixation with textiles.

I can’t catch up with what I know I should do socially,

I internally call out

see – watch my joy.

Can you hold this moment with me?

Scared of what he’s seeing, what he’s already seen,

this date so fresh we haven’t even made it to dinner yet

and

I found a book on Nepalese textiles

Six. Two hands now.

Still, he sits

Leans in