I remember
the taste of your kisses
on my body
when I was drunk with love,
and the painful sweetness
as our flesh would merge.
I remember
stolen, hurried moments
on the subway,
when we could only
touch hands,
and reading the thoughts
that lay unclouded
in our eyes,
wait until we were home
to act out our desires.
In the deep
and silent night
she walks,
a pale and fragile shadow,
gliding between the roses and the oaks
to stand beneath his window,
waiting for a sign
that he,
at last,
is home from the war.
She stands,
eyes raised
to the curtains
that should part
to show her a glimpse
of his face.
She waits,
sad and beautiful,
as the moon
moves across the sky,
and,
as dawn greets the morning,
she sighs,
and turns,
and goes to lay the roses
on his grave.
You,
like some sort of big, sleek animal,
you uncurled and stretched
in liquid movements
that caught my eye.
You saw me staring
(I could not look away!),
and smiled,
and came to me,
lifting my chin
until I was looking
into your pale eyes,
then your lips brushed mine
for a bried moment, and you were gone.
A brief moment,
but in my mind
it is eternity.
You came into my life
when I once again
had failed to climb the mountain,
when had decided
not to try anymore.
You were like a cool drink
after having been denied
water
for so long.
You were a mirror
that let me see
the reflection
of everything
I want so much to be.
You were a smile
on the face of everyone
I ever wanted to smile at me.
You were a raft
to carry me
across an ocean
of confusion and despair.
I want so badly
to cling to you
but I am afraid.
Let me climb
my mountain alone.
But please be here
when I return.
I am a moth.
You are the flame.
Drawn to closely to you,
I am devoured.
Last night
when you were leaving me,
you asked why I was crying.
I said
it was only
something in my eye.
Perhaps,
if I had told the truth
you would still be here.
We stood in the rain,
clutching each others hand,
trying to remember
all that we had said
and done and been together,
and trying to think
of something clever to say,
but not feeling clever at all,
knowing that the memories
we had tried
to make last forever
by binding them with false promises
were gone,
and that the warmth we once shared,
even on nights like this,
was no longer there
for either of us.
Still,
it was hard to say goodbye.
You traced a crack in the pavement
with the toe of your shoe
and promised to keep in touch.
I didn't even see you go -
I watched the lightning pierce the sky.
All today
I was a child
in the thought of you.
I climbed a tree
and read all the names
carved on it in hearts.
I watched a couple
making lazy love
in the bushes,
and children
racing through
the dusty heaps of leaves.
We could have had
a picnic here,
you and I,
and spent hours
climbing trees,
and carving our initials
and laughing
in the dusty leaves.
You lean over me
to reach your cigarettes
on the nightstand,
pausing to touch my cheek
(an afterthought really-
a cigarette is first in mind),
In the sudden flare
of the match flame
I see your face,
tenderly lined
with years of living
and loving.
Perhaps
someday,
I too
will be written on your face
and someone else will read it
and know me.