It's hard not to be able to share my fondest memory.
Lying in bed and just holding each other.
It was something beautiful. You were something beautiful.
Your beautiful dark eyes and strong hands and kind smile
gave me chills.
It didn't even take anything. You didn't have to do anything
special. It didn't matter.
Laughing, talking, smiling, nothing. Anything. Everything.
I loved you. I loved you so hard.
I loved when you brushed your lips across my cheek
and teased
oh, how you teased.
Because I wanted every inch of you.
And I loved when you drifted in and out of sleep
and breathed deeper, and laughed slower
and that you didn't mind
when I did the same.
And when I told you something from the hardness of my heart
where hard brick walls protect my (persistent, ugly) demons
you just held me tighter.
I've never felt so safe.
I loved that.
And when it was over, when the sun was rising quickly
and dim light was creeping in to greet us
"Good morning, secret lovers, you've made it!"
there was an electricity in our knowledge of each other.
No one knew how we knew each other that night.
No one knows
what beauty, terror, intimacy
looked like, between the two of us.
It's hard to put that memory away
when all I want to do is scream.
It's hard to wake up and say
"I am going to be happy today"
when my happy is tucked in with us.
It's just so hard.