After so many days,
how can I remember the smell of your skin,
so clearly…the taste of your kiss
as if your mouth just left mine?
At times I wish that I could just
turn off my brain, let those feelings that
are interconnected with the fabric of my existence go…
but there are some things that never leave you.
How can I so clearly feel the touch of your hand on my back;
the taste of you on my tongue?
And how is it that every time I am among the trees of the forest
I can hear the breath of your exertion alongside me?
When I look through the lens of my camera
I can hear the creative fire that lived within you telling me
to feel the perfect shot…to wait until my soul felt it.
Unspoken, you fed my creative spirit
and I fed yours…
…isn't that what muses do?
And every time my feet tread upon some obscure wooded trail,
why is it you are there, walking the same path,
seeing the same vistas?
When I sit quietly at night with the sound of crickets and wind
whispering to me and the taste of red wine on my tongue,
why do you persist in my memory?
If there is a God…
If life is fair…
If anyone ever believed in love…
you will come to me.
Because the persistence of memory tells me
you are mine.
No matter the length of time since we have shared the same space,
no matter those things that come between us,
no matter who you have loved since,
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