The Valley Note

Stars blanketing the infinite above,
each glowing point illuminated
the way to find you again,
some still cycling through spans,
some are merely a ghost’s torch
reaching us long after a final flare.

Your house looked the same as before,
tiny windows and your favorite glass
figurines carefully arranged on shelves,
framed photos from the past that you never
want to talk about and I never pierced
such a delicate subject’s surface.

The valley was already too quiet by then,
wind stilled to the most inscrutable whisper,
just like the first night we met
when you were attached to
whatever glow snared you
with an incomparable brilliance.

I only want the winter’s cold
to stay wrapped around me
until I see myself mirrored
in your familiar eyes.

Until your warm embrace blankets me
as you lead me to your room,
overtaken with the same need
that has always been my compass.

I remember the last time I was here.

Swallowed by the darkness,
spooned closer than I’ve ever been
to anyone before or ever since,
a phone suddenly illuminating
on your old nightstand,
next to our empty wine glasses.

I never knew who it was,
maybe you wanted me to ask
but equally dreaded such
an intimate inquiry that night.

I kept a promise made only to myself,
to never let my own aches
or secrets ever trouble you

You stilled against me before
our fingers came to life,
undoing buttons, clasps, and zippers,
the frenzied undoing of one another.

It’s only simple between us
when we let go here,
when hands trace the invisible
courses set when we’re apart.

I only want you as before
and that spark still resonates
in something we cannot name
but bring curious fingertips towards.

The house was too quiet by then,
our longing embedded within
the silence before inevitable contact,
within your incomparable unclothed brilliance.

A burst of warm nectar rises
when you open up like no other,
when you flood with paradise’s memory
still reaching for and taking me to
apexes far beyond what impulse
and premeditation can create.

Something like a lost language
spills from you just them,
I can trace it from your tongue,
down your delicate neck,
the second sensitive peaks
leading to your nipples,
down to the tightening walls
you whispered for me to pierce.

Your frame shook in its own storm,
I became a mere passenger,
a witness to you letting go,
voice laced with nothing
but inscrutable whispers,
speaking to me through moans
and nails breaking skin.

I’ve always kept the same promise
that I once made to you years ago,
one to never let you go,
I keep it now without words,
with your body wrapped around mine.

I remember the last time I was here,
this moment is a mirror to that night.

Swallowed by the afterglow,
withdrawing from where I was deeper
inside anyone before or ever since,
your skin still illuminated with a brilliance
that no one else has been able to understand.

I never asked for my secrets
and aches to become your own,
I only wanted the winter to come
so you’d remember who I was
the first time we met and the pieces
of you I’ve always carried with me.

It’s only simple once we’re undone,
once our hands touch as if tracing
beautiful and perfect patterns
carefully drawn when we’re apart.

I only want us to see the stars
blanketing the infinite above,
remember what led us to before,
what marks we leave when
you tell me I have to go.

The valley was already too quiet by then,
and all you could hear were the words
I whispered into your ear.

I only want you.