We all sat in this big circle
a room full of those hopeful and each voice
was smoother than honey and unique
in every way a voice can be unique
and I’m glad I’m not the people who have to pick the
new members for the group
The soprano of the group helped me to warm up and that
was lovely and helpful and when I sang with her
I had never enjoyed singing with anyone that much before
It sounded like breeze blowing across a river
How is it that you can take me for a walk in the park and, by the time we meet the mouth of the trail, make me fall deeper in love with you than I was when we started? It’s lovely to be away from the roads and the cars and the stores. The only sounds not made by nature were the clicks of your camera and our bags swaying against our hips. The lake trickled by like the faucet on a four-footed bathtub in an old house on a hill once did. Our feet sunk into the mud, but remained unstained. I reached for your hand at least one hundred times and you caught it each time. I glanced at you and found myself without words when our eyes would meet.
Later we looked at projections of stars. Despite the manufacturedness, they almost put the sky outside your room to shame. For the only sky I cared about at the time was the battery powered Discovery Channel light display on your wall. We took turns wearing the 3D glasses and not. You were tired, but I was glad that I got to spend those late evening hours with you.
You are so wonderful, and I would choose to marvel at you over the deepest reaches of space.
I love you,
Your words are always crisp, like over-washed motel sheets. And you wrap around me just the same. They always say that your first night together is an experience that will determine the rest of your days, and if it’s so, then welcome to forever. You sleep with a sort of restless peace on your face, like your body is embellished with a distain that you can only block out when you’re unconscious. Your hair is tangled almost as much as my heart, which wants nothing more than to wake you with soft touches, but I can’t look away from your chest, rising and falling like a lake tide. Smooth but determined, reaching for a higher point of the shore. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. After drifting off for a while I jerk awake; one of those dreadful dreams of falling. A moan slips from deep in your chest and you wrap your arms around me tighter than they were before and I feel your breath on my hair. I grin through my mask of exhaustion and wrap my legs around yours, but you were already unconscious again, breathing heavily from relief that you found in your sleep.
I get up at 4 A.M. the next morning and realize we don’t have much time before the sun rises and I have to go back to campus and revel in this moment. I get up to brush my teeth and pray that the light doesn’t cause you to stir, but when I return I can’t resist kissing you lightly enough to not wake you. I pray you wake up, and you do.
But that restless rest was more beautiful to watch than waves lapping the shore or wind sweeping across grasses in a field. If I ever become blind, your sleep is the first thing I’ll miss being able to see.