I've never entertained the changing of my surname.
It would disrespect my father, and his, before him.
I would not do it. But if I had to, for some reason --
a hammock. The Pacific Ocean would come to mind.
Barefoot you swept the dew'ed grass with your toes.
Swayed to and fro as the waves rolled white on sand.
Naming constellations that were to me, a mystery.
Then, as your being focused upon it -- the moon.
You whispered, It is like a sliver in the hand of God.
...My first name means beloved, in Hebrew.
No need to change that, with your fiery gaze upon me.
The crescent of reflected sun in your wide open eyes.
But yes, any magistrate present, handing me a pen
in that moment would find me willfully taking it up.
Signing my new full name on any document --
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014 --