Nia

“I know. They never let you be famous and happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you a secret”. “Tell me.” I loved it when he was like this. “I’m going to be the first”. He took my palm and held it to his. “Swear it”. “Why me?” “Because you’re the reason. Swear it.”

i will only sing of our love;

the crowds will only know

of the time we had looked at each other’s eyes

and felt our hearts thundering within our chests

with the realization that there is

no one in this world,

throughout the scattered cities,

that i rather grow old with

but you.

they will only ever hear

of the way your hand shyly sought out mine,

tangling our fingers as we rested amongst

the sheep,

backs pressed on the grass

and eyes watching the clouds,

thinking of nothing

but the heat we share through our palms.

they will only ever see

of the love dripping from my eyes

as i recount the stories from our youths—

when we had yet to grasp swords

and only held each other.

love is all i will tell the people;

your name is all they will hear

because the war is unkind

and i will bury these memories

as i bring you back to life

through my stories.

i will only ever sing of our love

because that is the only way

i am able to keep you with me.