***Untitled Piece***
March 2001
Do you remember the half-light in the room? The window open and a gentle touch of a breeze playing with us. The blinds were tapping against the frame with the ebb and flow.
I was lying on my side, trying to memorize your face. We were naked; parts of us covered by the sheet.
I remember you rolled towards me and handed me one earbud, inviting me to share in your music. And we lay, listening privately to Counting Crowes and tried to understand the enormity of our love.
I lifted my heavy arm to touch your face, to trace the line from your earlobe to your chin, along your cheekbone and across your lips. Such lovely, gentle lips. Such love in your eyes as I looked, and a yearning which hadn't yet been sated, and maybe never would be.
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