Copyright is held by the author.
Standing on this love, here,
the details of life,
how the skin sags
only after the heart has been broken.
How an eye flutters
or a hand turns
while drying a dish, to catch
an errant soap bubble.
How the tedium of bills, dust, motor oil changes
menace ubiquitously across
the exotic vines, blossoming ivy.
Stand here. Let your tongue wonder
at the mystery of touch,
its reliability or its sudden misery.
Let your tongue fall to rest
under the memory of fresh wild berries,
first time chocolate, his skin…
Let the liquid splendor
of cells’ memory hint at details,
that, while not exactly here,
are never quite erased.