Here I am but never again just like this
Here I am,
holding my quick-witted, dark-eyed lover.
Days spent hundreds of miles from any known faces—
upon the sea, above the creek,
wrapped up in me—
but never again just like this.
Here I am, looking at you.
Searching, memorizing,
remembering every wish spoken aloud or kept shaded.
I pull them back
and give them to you
in gestures and gifts
so you might know you are loved.
Conscious of the temperature,
conscious of your fears
and the commitments that bind you.
Ease is all I wish to bring to you—
and in this moment, I do—
but never again just like this.
I am quick to grow angry with time,
but if we are rich in anything
it certainly would be in hours and days,
months and years,
a decade, a lifetime.
But still, with you, it is never enough.
When we are apart,
I am recalling and documenting every moment.
I am sure I will take refuge in these pages one day—
and I hope you might too.
Of course, it will never again be just like this—
but maybe I am giving us
a fighting chance
by bottling up this present fold of life
in such intricacy.
At the very least…
something to return to,
something to find down the line and rejoice in.
Something of our youth.
Something of us.
