I’ve Known You
Prose Poem
I recognize you.
Your fingertips tracing across my skin reverently as morning sun slants through the windows feel like a prayer I’ve whispered many times; the solid warmth of you, standing behind me with your arms wrapped around my waist, the light touch of your lips against my forehead, my neck, makes me feel inextricably connected to something beyond my understanding. Something reassuringly steady. Something grounded. Something like home.
I’ve known you. I think we chose each other before all this, in another life maybe — before these lives began, before we knew who we would become and how any of it would play out.
Your arms wrap around me as we take in the sweeping night sky and oceanic expanse of glittering stars. We stand in the middle of a dusty road somewhere in Midwest backcountry so quiet it feels like the world is holding its breath and I think of all the moments that pass us by in a lifetime, slowly like sand through our fingers until suddenly our hands are empty, and how I want to grab hold of time like we did tonight and make moments enduring. Cold black sky dotted with stars. Quiet, open, lonesome road. Your warmth and scent and presence. You, I, and every reminder that our lives are ephemeral and all we get is this, just this, until all that’s left is hazy memories.
