Last Evenings

So many last evenings  I wanted to write, to find the words, cairns for wanderings to come, and nothing came. Loose ends not to be tied up. Like I knew I would be back in time to catch them. Only I never did. I carried it all with me and there was nothing left to come back for.

Mirrors

For days I've looked at you in your smile, the little quiver before I know it's a smile, the softness of your lips just after.
I've wandered along your scars and laugh lines, up and down the nose, that turns the opposite way of mine.
I pass a mirror, the one I stand before when I brush my teeth, and it all looks the same, yet I recognize a young girl who once couldn't imagine to be a woman at my age.

Desire

Woke up with this little worry, then a walk in the rain, it's much too cold for August and the mind is such a delicate mechanism. Millions of tiny little cogwheels working in and out of each other, moves me forward, pulls me back.
Saturday, Saturday, hold out your hand, assure me you won't fall out of this year's calendar.

The waiting, the knowing

I lie down, back meets ground, the sky behind your face, grass tickles an ankle. I don't want to miss any moments of this impatience.