five years ago, i made a right turn.
there was a destination ahead
warmer and foreign
i didn't know the safety of the path,
and that was o.k.
i was giving up my atlantic.
late nights of **** bathing,
avoiding rude traffic in the morning,
and turning spindles on the boardwalk.
it was beautiful but i was dying.
we met on stairs built
on the sound of a southern state.
you knew my cousin because
she loved your brother once.
you were bubbly with long hair,
thin and fair.
our names share the same letter
and the same amount of syllables.
you weren't older than I
but had grown in more common ways.
i had seen more corners of the world,
the darkness and light they offered too.
i was shy with an open heart while
you were hopeful for more intention;
more time spent of our invention.
we made red sangria
and cut fruit in the kitchen
overlooking the shining bay.
a place where we would love each other
with a ripe and fruitful touch.
  
we soon moved in together
and life was simple.
i had made a fire for you and
dreamed my thoughts aloud
of keeping life this way.
material and time built
walls between us.
you wouldn't let me love you.
you became afraid of the worlds i knew.
no words or actions could convince you
how those things didn't matter
that we had all we needed.
your distance and shifting desires
lead me askew.
i made a left turn towards something new.
i didn't know where i was going
but the journey was intoxicating.
i learned about deep hurt
and a brighter light;
darker corners
and wider definitions of what love really is.
this left turn took nine months
to more unknown roads,
but the light on the bay
with fruity sangria,
with the love and light you showed me
for making a right turn,
i will never lose.