A deceptively simple one from Yaedi Ignatow (1956-), about whom there is little information except that her father was the poet David Ignatow, whose work I will post soon.
“We Were Love”
We were love
or love was suddenly remembering us
the way two lines cross
and the nearest necessity
you know nothing about, finds you.
The way two people meeting
can suddenly slice through the fabric of an evening
revealing the fabric of another evening in another world.
we don’t have to know everything;
we just have to want to let everything know us.