A Rough Draft

Lovers of other times

are dropping into my mind,

for cups of coffee, day-dreaming,

recalling:

our dances of magnetism,

late-night philosophizing,

lessons in foreign tongues,

games of chess in the park,

melting flavors of pleasure,

sudden departures,

enduring friendships,

heart aches and heart hooks,

photographs and missing negatives,

love letters and tearful goodbyes–

many seas traversed and worlds gone by.

I wonder, is this the flooding review

that comes before a dying?

If I surrender to the dissolution,

can I carry parts of you, and me, forward?

If I have a choice, I will carry memories of feeling,

of our rare, naked moments when we let each other in.

And to you, you who are on your way,

I have heard you through the distance.

I have felt you in the space between,

flirting on the periphery of time.

you orbit, coming in close, then departing.

Are you a mirage? a soul projection? a mate? a kindred?

When we meet, sunlight breaks through,

casting rainbow arcs and amber warmth.

When we part, clouds gather,

bearing water and blue-grey cooling.

I savor the sensation of the brush of your cheek against mine,

I breathe in, capturing the earthy scent of you.

I long for our embrace,

the heat of our tender friction imprinting us,

the alchemy of our souls forming a new language for the world to come.

 

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