You and I - 
a miracle,
though fugitive,
yet isn't loss the fate of all beauty?
                 -–a prelude

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Today, I walked past a young couple,
who resembled us
the weekend 
we stood acoast Charles River.

Their hands interlocked,
quivered
as leaves rustle in the wind,
attached by a fragile string,
smitten by a late autumn hail,
then fall apart like all else.

Their bags
overflowed with rose petals,
spilling as they go
in this labyrinth called life
full of stops, turns, and cloverleaves
that no one could foretell.

"Be my harbor!"
"Be my pillow whispers!"
"Be my favorite book yellowed with age!"
A vow,
a skip-day rendezvous,
a "your-love-eats-me-alive."
Infatuation,
belongingness,
possessive­ness,
delirium–
I will betray the world
to chase your shadow.

Love ringed down the curtain
perfect as it was,
until I pulled the ribbon - 
a bow,
we came nicely undone.

As for now,
this afternoon,
on an escape made for two,
their gazes collided,
and two dots connected.
In a single blip of alignment
across time and space,
they offered each other the Universe.
Knowing this,
Is enough.

On the brim of my tree,
which sprouts and sprawls
and weaves a canopy that catches the sun,
perches a little ghost.

That's you,
Do you see?