A love story

The shining drop clung, magnetic, to the quirked tip of the waxy leaf, managing to convey, without words, blush or motion the entirety of the longing passion that a lover feels in the vacuum of absence. 

                           "Coffee or tea?" the smiling blue eyes asked.

                                                                                                        I am here.

Joyfully I returned to the water where we had lavished those red-tinged moments, but I found the
stream had found another way or left the earth all together--finding it too warm to stay.  I regretted the loss and hoped our liberty hadn't frightened it far away.           Or become lost.

When I covered my eyes I could still see him, and I knew that the place deep in me that felt paralyzed would soon blossom into a voice of my own, but just for now--for this night--I crawled behind the quilt of memory and slept.

"Here is my heart.  I can't seem to make sense of it.  It can't just end.  I can't just end."

Ending

Beginning

both change you. It is brutish.

Here in the twilight of my life, I can stand and feel no need to glance behind, for behind the tall oak, I found the secret place of which my soul has always whispered.

Memory whispers in the dark of the moon, and I love you floats naked before me.

I am here