Remember The Day We First Met

I had once slipped my feet into a pair of footprint that I found when I stopped to look at the sea. It was moist but mildly warm. I could still sense the curves of the feet, the space in between the toes which once stood right where I was standing - a subtle gradient between the vigorous waves and the burning sand. While each ray of light began to dim around me every single cell in my body screamed for company. I wanted to share these extraordinary, ordinary few minutes with someone.

One day a column of air blew into my flimsy shirt and my fingers found them entangled with yours. 

The touch of your skin so familiar...yet completely new to me.

The sphere of the sky moved in circles taking us with it into the infinite layers of the cosmos. We were looking for stars that never cease to shine. But the constellations were not on that dark surface, we found them in us.

The smile, I remember. The first thing I remember when I remember you.

I Want You to Remember a Sound

 I want you to remember a sound, 

 thunderous explosions against the bodies of mountains, 

sheets of ice cracking and sliding off in violent showers, 

enveloping life below in its whiteness.  

 I want you to remember a sound,

 the undoing of the zip of your tent, 

the first ray of light burning your eyes, 

the dawn chorus bringing new blood in your skin.

I want you to remember a sound,

 the sunset calling the sea waves,                                    their musical bubbling, 

their rise, 

their fall, 

their folding and unfolding,

and foam touching your feet.

                                                                                         I want you to remember a sound, the crackle of gravel under your heel.

                                             

      I want you to remember a sound,

      water gurgling in your throat, 

      water sliding down your chin, 

      water moist along your collar 

      and cool on your warm skin.

While you are here I want you to remember the sound of your own voice, 

a sponge for voices of every life you encountered and did not encounter, 

every eye that followed you and did not follow you, 

every piece of music that touched you and did not touch you,

every mind that remembered you and did not remember you

and every heart you won and lost.

                                          ______________