Eclectic
electric
lights
shatter
the space
in strobe,
fragments the people
only to prove them whole again. And
reaching
out for
you
feels like
falling
in
slow
motion
only to resume time
when your hand’s in mine once more.
“Two,” I say,
and my head rolls away
as I laugh –
and you pull me in again
to nuzzle your head into my neck
to brush your fingers along my nape
And I feel more at home
Than I ever have before.
_________
Past times with you are like warm honey under the strobe light of memory
But in your presence
The yellow lights don’t flicker –
“I love you”
“I love you too.”
© 2018 Anna Rabinov
Leave a Reply