Wednesday Night

You had me the second that our eyes met, I couldn't look away even if I'd wanted to. I took your hand as we boarded the train and you rested your head on my shoulder, your hair drifting in a violet waterfall down my chest. We took a long slow walk on the beach in the late afternoon, your boot heels crunching in the hungry white sand. You asked me if you should take your ring off, but I told you to leave it on, it's alright.

And when darkness fell we danced in the thunder, danced under the stars and the comets while the world shook and I felt the sweat in the small of your back while we waltzed on the edge of a grave. And when we kissed I tasted blood, was it yours, or mine? I don't know. But I thanked God for showing me I'm still alive. Sometimes I'm not so sure about that.

On the train ride back there was only one open seat and you sat in my lap, my hand on your knee, your arm around my shoulder. I kissed y0ur cheek and said, "Thank you, ma cher, for a night that I'll never forget." And you laughed and said, "I'm sure you won't, Jim!"

And hours later we were lying on the bed in your cool dark hotel room, the curtains open, looking so far down on the rainy lights of Broadway, the wet breeze blowing down the side streets, the lightning dancing with the angels, the night exploding in a neon dream of joy.

And tonight you're back home in Montmartre, and I'm here in New York City, and I'll always love you, even though we'll never speak again. Thank you.

Summer Tides

Sinking lower in the water, my tongue can taste the salty waves, my eyes get splashed and my heart is diving down to where the pain can't find it anymore. And I wonder, how far below my feet is the bottom? If I stand and try to walk out, will I feel the cold wet sand between my toes? Or will I just sink a little deeper, while the rip tide takes me farther out where the shore line's just a memory and the waves roll cool and blue and green and the stars swing down so bright and close and the moonlight whispers in my ear and the memories don't hurt?

God, I hope so.

Blue Skies Grey Eyes

She's the angel of the hills,
her eyes are so defiant and
her stare is hard and flinty
but her heart is warm and open.

I met her in a lonely place,
she was the only real live person
in that cold and windy desert
and I hoped to know her better.

We talked all night until the sun
was lighting up the windows and the
shadows of the night time sank
beneath the rolling foaming harbor waves.

Now she's my friend and I'm so glad
we looked beyond the obvious, and I
took her hand when she offered it
and the world lit up and the walls came falling down.

The Night Before The Fourth Of July

Emily is quiet tonight, her eyes look so far away. Earlier we lay on the bed, she with her head on my shoulder, watching a not very good movie. When it was over and we sat up I noticed the shoulder of my shirt was damp, I'm pretty sure she was quietly crying. I asked her what was wrong and she brushed it off, "It's nothing Jim, it's just something about July Fourth...." I didn't want to pry, because I believe a lady is entitled to her secrets. And anyway, she's twenty-five, she's old enough to know what she wants.

We went out and sat in the garden, watching the prayer flags flap in the night breeze, watching the slow moving stars rising over the roof of the church next door. I lit a candle on the wrought iron table, and she curled up against me on the old oak and iron bench. I kissed her forehead, then her eyes, then the tip of her nose, which made her laugh, and that was just what I wanted. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, kissed me and said, "Thank you Jim, I needed that!" "You're welcome Em, think good thoughts of me and I'll do the same for you, and we'll both get to heaven that much faster!"

But I'm really enjoying the journey, the getting there, it's so much fun!

The First Of July

We were sitting on the bed listening to Kristofferson in the quietest part of the evening, when the sky was turning from blue to black and candle glow was filling the room. We were sitting on the bed, Emily on my lap with her arm around my shoulder, singing along softly. "Let the devil take tomorrow, Lord tonight I need a friend...." I love to hear her sing.

When the music stopped she leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, "What's the matter Jim? There's something hurting you, isn't there?" After more than three years, she knows me so well.

"Honey, it's everything and nothing. It's feeling myself slowing down. It's feeling all these pains, and knowing that it only goes downhill from here. It's knowing I can't do the things I used to. It's knowing that I'm a lot closer to the end than the beginning, and half of me is looking forward to that while the other half is thinking about missing the good things I have in this life."

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a quick hug, kissed my cheek, while giggling the whole time. "Jim, that's just time! It's weighing on you heavily,
'cos you think you've seen too much of it. Time can be sneaky that way, piling on you like a load of bricks, squeezing your heart. It can make you think that here and now is all that matters!" She burst out completely laughing at that idea, and I couldn't help but join her.

She smoothed her skirt over her knees, took my face in her hands and looked deep into my eyes until we were both overtaken by the glorious silliness of the moment. "Do you love me?", she asked. "You know I do!", I answered. "Then don't sweat it, silly! You know we're gonna be together forever, whether it's fifty years from now, or tomorrow morning. I can wait!"

....And now she's sound asleep, I just took her tortoise shell glasses off and put them in the drawer alongside mine. She's so still, so quiet, the way only a ghost can be. And I'm sitting here writing this down, because I want to remember this night, and how kind she was to me. I can't wait for forever.