And there she was through the night glades

glistening after rain as if she heard me

say her name here in the near dark outside,

always here because the house holds too many ghosts,

too many phantom pains I don't know how to speak of.

But she looked like she had come home,

like the stars had finally led her back to me,

she could read them as bright pulsing maps even though

I never quite understood that sweet cosmic tongue.

At least I know how her lips tasted soft and slow,

a private promise slipped and sealed

and pulled away but never forgotten,

at least I knew that much.

I didn't think I'd ever feel that young again.

And soon I picked her flowers I can't name

but they were so much like her, if fleeting,

beautiful and scented with all earthly sweetnesses,

last time I plucked them straight from the root,

it's the only way they matter even more.

And later a storm churned near and she held me

so close inside her that I felt like that summer rainfall

when the sky finally opens its heat and shakes in thunderclaps,

I felt like everything was one and I'd never be alone

again even though she'd always soon be gone.

But time and earth turn to make us meet again.

And there she was through the night glades,

always in and out of my heart,

something had already changed in me,

I think that something may have broken in her, too,

I think I saw the moonglow pass through her that night,

pass through some ghost of what we tried to make,

it tells me love wounds us in ways we never expect.

But she looked like she had finally come home,

like the stars had led her to not let go

when we sleep like perfect spoons in the dark,

when she kisses slow and I want to keep that

sweet phantom on my skin wherever I go from here.

I can only hold on to it for so long

even though she always felt like mine,

even though she could whisper it into being.

I never quite understood such beautiful cadences,

only the way yours could ripple through me.

And she told me that mine was a voice through the storm,

fluttering through falling leaves and stars,

last time our bodies shook like endless thunder,

even though the sky will close soon enough.

I wish I knew how to say things like that,

I can't remember so many things

but I knew how to hold her after

and let my limbs tell her I'll never go,

at least I can no longer tell where

she ends or where I begin.

At least I'll always know that much.

I didn't think we'd ever feel that young again.

Even if love wounds us in ways we never expect.