Panama
H&H: Eleven Countries and Two Continents, 8/11
How do I even begin?
In the middle?
It’s six am, and you are asleep.
Dim daylight shows through the shutters,
our bungalow on Isla Bastimentos, and, love,
I could only be happier than this
if you were awake.
I study your face for a moment,
your beard has gone scraggly,
so much much more red there
than in your wavy hair
and brindled with the lightest blonde.
Rain patters on the thatch roof
lending a fresh scent to the sea air,
and here, snug with you, love,
I could only be happier than this
if you were awake.
I lay against your back, move your hair,
and begin to lightly kiss your neck.
You stir just enough to murmur I love you,
then back to your peaceful sleep.
My heart nearly stopped in my chest.
How do I continue?
What do I say?
It’s eleven pm and I'm close to sleep
on our bed at the Playa Bonita.
You've been out on the balcony, enchanted,
your rainy gaze over the Bridge of the Americas,
but now you are next to me, kissing my hand.
You look at my face for a moment,
a soft smile on your lips, you tell me
I am so much more than beautiful.
A familiar warm rush goes through me.
This is how it should be, you and me.
Sliding your arm beneath me
you lean in, kissing me a dozen times,
maybe more, I lost count.
All I can think of is how right it all feels,
in your arms, touched by your lips.
Sleep now, my darling, spoken softly
as you lay down against my back.
With your kisses on my neck, I continue,
from the middle, whispering, I love you, too.
This is how it should be, you and me.
