A world

sits

between

us

two

lifetimes

lost loves

first ones

long stories

short secrets

simply

sitting

we hear

histories

chronicles

of

dark ages

what

we

share

is age

neither

young

neither

old

simply

in between

 

We sat

knees touching

mine bouncing

waiting

for results

they have things

for it

you said

things

that cure

it knock

it out

not

for

what

I

have

I said

no

cure

for

a

broken

heart

With my

fingers

I

trace

your

life

by

the

lines

of your

face

a

roadmap

that

leads

me

through

the peaks

of youth

and valleys

of

age

it’s

only

in your

wrinkles

do

I

see

the

real

you

We

found

ourselves

ensnared

caught

on

the

sharp

cutting

barbs

of speech

razored

words

pierced

fleshy

hearts

at last

tearing

at the

clothes

of

reason

we

stumbled

into

this

briar

patch

not

running

away

but

running

to

Postmarked

two weeks

ago

the envelope

waits

unopened

I still hear

laughter

tears

apologies

desire

my fingers

touch

handwriting

and sense

yours

the seal

on back

felt your

tongue

as did my throat

postmarked

two weeks

ago

this

envelope

is all

I have

of

you