You pressed into me like flesh was just
another barrier that love could overcome.
We were such fools, giddy in the heat of sunlight
and summer dreaming.
Nails scoring nape, tasting salt and sharing sips
of drinks always too sweet.
We spoke like we could climb over each other's
words and reach the sky together.
Breathless murmurings, birdsong.
Touch flesh and touchstone.
Silence never fords a river
and my hands are bare. Like flowers
they open and speak in the rise
and fall of heat, in fleeting scent
and aborted gestures and touch.
(Oh, but kisses and bruises fade.)
It is time for clouds to rest. Outside,
the sun settles below the horizon,
like an eyelid shuttering, like goodbye.
3. Hello (Again)
I search the lines around your eyes
and your mouth as if unraveling
a mystery. Time was not kind to me,
nor to you. But we can be kind enough
to each other. I look down at my hands,
curled up together like birds in the nest.
(We said goodbye like we had planes to catch.
The thread snapped and we lived with hearts
that still wanted healing. Not so tender now.)
I once said that silence never fords a river.
But what did I know? Wordlessly we speak
in gestures that have or have not changed.
A rough translation: hello again, hello.
4. Goodbye (Again)
What did I know of pain?
Whatever heights we reached together--
Whatever depths we dived together--
Nothing, nothing hurts more
than watching you leave
5. ( )
Will there be another hello?
Only the gods know.
Okay. This just started with number two--a draft I wrote down five years ago--and it grew from there. Still a draft, but richer and deeper perhaps?