“Who Knew”

Calm, I knew well, interlocked, entwined with mine. Superior, yet open always…first, that certain pale blue, the expansiveness that is close, contentment…Trust, feel safe with my soul-friend; I’d heard from others you looking down often, none of your little news, and mostly I’ve been looking up since I would look, meet both places, eyes meet often, look, gaze, smile, giggle, different colors, brown and green, yours and mine, with glints…I’d flown likely less than half a foot above my bed, the pillow still soft upon my cheek, the blanket a little lighter, floated a little above the poem I’d read…No, I was with it, my head upon the poem-pillow, just one, impressive that I stuck to any rule, especially with art, felt right, didn’t realize there was more to it when I’d thought the poem ended, stopped at my stopping place, and that was just where I would have the poem close if it were my own I was writing…And then the quick, long sweep with larger-feeling, very feminine hands over my calves to my ankles, the smile in the dark I felt and barely saw / splitting through the old twined memories of what could have been past lifetimes, lifetimes maybe not literal but they’ve felt less pressing, the ancient. As a child I’d know intimately a kind of mythology, the great merman with his gleaming fish body that dried off into a white suit with black shoes, the sky on and on and great and such safety, the merman adventurous and classy…and I’d never met you at the spot you’d picked? Full moon like daylight and I still couldn’t find my way, go back, time for sleep, we were not permitted to meet during the day, so sad, so stupid…was captivated by your smile again and again, different lifetime, same smile, same sigh, my tears, and aggression for frustration again. I must have practiced your name, never said it to your face, what was there in that meeting place, a tent with a very high canopy but more mini-sized? Was it always windy?

Present times, first kiss so high upon my forehead to follow a kiss upon my face both cheeks and back again, rock me amusedly, felt me cherished want to touch a little bit, good to be felt, a surprise—me—Now you twirl my hair, lift my strands with your fingers and move my hair aside to uncover my face fully, see the shape and cheeks, I am smiling so subtly my lips soften, you see my face while my eyes are closed, no shyness from me: I wish to be seen, to touch and feel like this, and the words that come to mind from you in the bright morning sun: ”The most beautiful thing about this morning is your eyes…well, second only to your heart.”

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