It rained that night, and we spent two hours crying
on at with each other. We had only been apart
two months, been with others and found it false.
After dinner and drinks - perhaps too many drinks -
we went back to my room where it was harder to
keep the memories away. Emotions exposed,
layer under layer, like ashes flaking from a smoldering log.
They weren't reawakened, they'd always been there,
burning. We'd been unable to stamp them out.
You left before we both got sick from crying;
I watched you stop in the grey light of night
on the front walk. You bowed down with a fist at each ear...
before I could call out, you were gone.
Back together again with all the trappings
we've tried before, the dinner and drinks.
This time we move more easily beyond polite conversation
and drop layers of memory as we drop our clothes.
Your face is older in the candle light - and forgiveness
comes easily as guilt did two months ago.
I am amazed at your ability to forgive my blacker
transgressions; love is a powerful solvent.
Pride set aside, guilt washed away; the more concrete
love takes its rightful place around us.
We climb into bed without worrying to lock doors or
close windows. Sleeping in each other’s arms,
we relive the past year in these moments we share.
I wake to a dream come true - and we plan in early morning hours
what will occur in our world.