I went there years later where
you whispered for us to meet.
Wind quietly caressed the valley
and a faint sweetness hovered
as its own temporary ghost
of lavender and iris and skin.
And I already remembered the way
my arms laced tightly around your waist,
starlight gracing the young with
its knowing incandescence like light
still dancing and throbbing along
edges of an extinguished constellation.
And how you would make me never forget
the way you taste when your lips lingered,
pressing softly again after each kiss in patterns
that felt like some signature claiming me,
a warm code you imparted on my skin
with an almost dangerous symmetry,
such precision can cut almost too deeply.
I took it as a promise never spoken,
an invisible insignia to always be worn.
Boundaries would only come later.
Some barrier that was easier
than remembering our pain,
and any mistakes we made,
you said to forgive myself.
We made them out of love.
But I’m still here,
perhaps a faithful sentinel.
And sometimes I think I’m still waiting
for you to return and touch me
to make me remember who I am
When starglows glittered on concrete and seemed
to light a path when our hands finally entwined
and our lips crushed together in your small room,
a flurry of curious limbs soon took over.
Every layer of clothing fluttered away,
a slow dance of colors ribboned together
and would reveal beautiful fair skin,
the longest unraveling of our lives when
I was pulled inside and you became mine
and we ravaged one another as the young do,
without abandon but always with purpose.
I took it as a vow never broken,
an invisible mark to always hold close.
Tenderness would only come later.
Some promise of time being on our side
even if we remembered too much of our pain
and any mistakes we may have made,
you said to remember to forgive myself.
We made them out of love.
Maybe that’s why I’m still here,
perhaps a faithful sentinel
waiting for your forlorn whisper
to caress this untouched valley.
Sometimes I think I’m still waiting
for you to return and touch me.
Make me remember who I am.