Somehow I knew you before
in a cottage;
in tepid water;
in the absence,
waiting in
songs,
stories,
my own prayers,
and in dreams detailing
small snippets of the to-be
like clippings of newspaper.
I thought I’d lost you,
and I waded through hail
and quicksand,
trying to dig deeper,
but I hadn’t met you yet,
so when I started to remember
these sounds
sleeping in my mind
I knew I had to trek back.
Your voice plays,
like a record long saved, tucked away,
playing as it did the very first time;
each touch, a step
to a dance I always loved
but convinced myself I’d forgotten;
your smile, a comfort lost in childhood
somewhere,
a sun shining in my memories,
and I knew I recognized it.
You had to be ethereal.
Late night thoughts eat at me.
