Diverge

It meant a lot to me that she was able to make it. I know things have been weird between us but we were able to put that aside at least for one night. I stood by the door looking out and saw her walking towards my house, unsure that she had the right place until our eyes met and she tossed me a wave. She looked different than I remembered. A little more weary; her youth slowly sewing a flag of defeat. I guess that she dresses a little bit differently now to. Jeans have been replaced by well-ironed slacks. Skimpy tops by a ruffled chemise. I felt somehow intimidated by her appearance, constantly reminding me of the ways in which she'd grown and in the ways in which I hadn't. I moved to hide the empty beer bottles from sight. I told her to have a seat hoping that my grab bag assortment of furniture would not be too inferior for her. Thankfully it wasn't.

As always she was intoxicating. Effervescent. I was drawn into her. She pulled poetry from me. We talked for hours with the sunlight slowly fading. She suggested we take a walk along the river. I hesitated worrying who might see us. She told me that they were through, so there was no need to worry. I worried anyway.

It was chillier than we had anticipated and we walked closely to feed on one another's warmth. I managed to slip my arm around her and she was not unreceptive. We stood momentarily beneath a flickering street light and were transported back. Back to before all of the ugliness, before all the lies, before we destroyed ourselves and each other. I knew then that I would never see her again. We would be successful in our reenactment that evening but come morning we would return to our separate worlds.

Our bodies moved as we had recalled them moving.

There was nothing to suggest the inevitable.

We slept, woke, and parted.

Golgotha

Peter was his rock as I was to be yours.
His betrayals numbered three,
How have I done?
I pray it takes less than your ten fingers to count them.

A Brief History

We heard whispers in Spring
And trembled in truth.
We sought visions in Summer
And yearned in our youth.

As the sun blessed our skin
Fall taught us patience.
As warm shelter beckoned
Winter seeped salvation.

Spring, yet again,
Spoke too soft to hear.
Its voice though was worried
But we cast off its fear.

Summer brought sorrow
Too swift to defend.
Fall's promise of patience
Proved untrue again.

A Golden Calypso

I can still see her standing there
Impatient as I slowly fill the bucket.
Sand,
Long since banished from its home beneath the waves,
Lingers beneath my fingernails.
Stuck for days in the mysterious cavities of my ear.
The pain of contact with my eye reminds me of her warning,
Which I, ever mischievous, fail to heed.
My swimsuit is soaked and clinging.
A towel,
now half sand,
Becomes an uncertain resting place.
Recumbent,
I stare bravely towards the fierce midday sun,
But all I see is her reluctance.