Starfish.

I stole this from my old blog... and I liked it so much I am posting it again:

We were laying on our backs.
like star fish.

Spread out on the beach

Watching the wind surfers.

The cold wind and the hot sun.

Sleeping with my head on your arm.

Sand in my bikini.

Your hand on mine.

Your love was like the glue that held my eyelids shut.

I slept better then.

Quiet content restlessness lost.

I'm yours.

Are you the one in my life-- that all poetry will simile to? My metaphors reach to the moments. Those moments forever captured in a place and an indescribable feeling of safe?

Are you the feeling that song writers belt out? with the scratch and tone and yearning. I know that feeling.

I'd give anything, most days, to have you in your pulled up sox and boxer shorts, ironing your dress shirt on my cold kitchen floor. Your muddy shoes on my clean carpet.

I'd let you fart on me. I wouldn't even complain.

We could put each others sox in each other's mouths. I'd be teased.

Would you let me pinch your belly while you ironed your dress shirt that you bought at good will?

Starfish.

Drying in the sand.

Like two lovers connected at the hip we run around and collect them to send to our friends. No one liked them but you and me. and you and me liked no one but ourselves.

These are the moments of quiet that I will miss.

Do you miss her yet?