Nostalgia is my lover
And I treat her well.
I’m the best she’s ever had,
I know, she told me.
She whispered it in my ear,
One soft night when our
Watercolor memories
Weighed heavy in our hollow bones.

You’ll pardon me if I brag,
But there’s none who can
Let her into their bloodstreams
Like me. She cradles
My retrospect, violet heart
With old page scented
Warm whiffs of skinny dipping,
Star gazing, castle climbing dreams.

She blurs me better than wine.
Wrapped in drunken nights,
Tea-stained trails of bygone sighs
Pull us through dizzy,
Ruminating mazes and
Gently, with fading hands,
Guide us back to our bed.
Here we’ll stay, curled up in longing.