Tom

That night would be it. There would be no more mornings. I had seen my last sunrise, tasted my last morning air.

I allow my lips to follow her unspoken guidance, and she falls into me, knowing I will catch her, hold her, and carry her wherever she needs to go.

You’ve become a phone screen, a picture on a computer monitor. You dangle on the arch, while forgetting the doorway it is supposed to be. One moment you are there, and the next you fade to black, disappearing right before my eyes.

Lovers know fear all too well. Yet in throes of their panic they discover something so much different.

If being love is to be the light, then let me shine. If being love is to hear and be heard, then let us speak our truth. If being love is sharing space, then let us sit together by a stream, basking in the mountains, speaking with nothing but our joined lips.