Remember, Remember, the Mists of November

This is a reply to the question Could you write a poem, a story, a love, a lie, a life all rolled into one... asked by sofs

Inspiration could strike anywhere, anytime and by anyone. And it is particularly pleasurable to rise to a challenge posed by a friend.

Hope the answer is worthy of such a wonderful question...

The night I lost you

I lost me too.

*

The mist rolls down the hill

and caresses the cabin with smoky fingers.

There is a chill in the room, despite the crackling fire.

Sparks fly from pine logs and dance

their way up into the chimney.

The blanket is just big enough for both of us.

When we move, I don’t know whose arm

Or whose leg does.

*

The world inside is ours, ours only.

I feel safe in your warmth, secure in your trust.

Love glues the embrace and I feel your heart beat

in rhythm with mine.

*

Your breath warms my neck. I look down

To see your gossamer eyelids fluttering open.

Those lips part to permit me a smile.

I melt.

*

I run my hand down your back and feel goosebumps.

I kiss your forehead, your eyes, the tip of your nose

Before your lips capture mine.

A twig catches fire and cracks loudly in the fireplace.

*

I bury my nose in your hair and smell shampoo and woodsmoke.

The nook below your ear, tastes good.

You sigh and unfurl.

*

Shadows dance on the ceiling in a sinuous dance

as we tangle, untangle.

Unsaid words hang in the air between our lips

Before running out of the way

*

My eyes are closed but my hands know familiar territory

as do yours.

Butterfly kisses on burning skin.

My eyes drink the molten gold of your glow

I know not where I end and you begin.

I want to stay that way.

*

My phone buzzes on the table beside us.

Your hand escapes the blanket to grab it and you bring the screen

Close.

We can both see the message.

That message.

*

Two hearts, two years.

And two lines is all it takes.

Please, please no.

You ask but you do not listen

You feel but do not think

*

Don’t leave the cabin.

It's dark.

It's misty.

Stay, don’t drive when angry,

I can explain.

It’s not what you think it is.

My hand clasps air as your arm pulls away.

The logfire crackles even more as if incensed.

*

The door slams shut as I run to grab my shirt.

The mist swirls behind your car as you drive off.

Autumn leaves silhouette in the back lights.

I run, barefoot, waving my arms as those red lights disappear in the mist.

My breath comes out in a great whoosh. I lean, hands on my knees, head down.

*

A distant owl hoots a nocturnal warning.

There is hush in the forest as even insects hold their breath.

The firelight from inside the cabin sputters as it starts to die.

Like my hope.

*

The night I lost you

I lost me too.

*