I was thinking today of how I would greet you,
how I would welcome you back
after this seeming-endless separation,
which was really only a nanosecond
of the eternity to come.

I might stand there quietly,
outwardly calm,
watching as the truck pulls around the corner,
everything in slow motion,
like I'm looking at the world
through an hourglass running with wet sand.
I might see you take that first step
out onto the hot summer pavement,
and I'd catch your eye
as you swing your time-worn bag
over your shoulder.

And God, how good you'll look
after those weeks under the desert sun,
sleekly muscled limbs tanned
and hair bleached to the same color as the sand.

And we'll smile,
softly,
seriously,
remembering all of the reasons
for our enduring and all-encompassing
fascination with each other.

Then we'll dissolve into grins and laughter
and air streaming past our faces
as we speed towards one another,
colliding into each other's arms,
my cheek pressed against your shoulder,
inhaling your dry scent
that didn't last nearly long enough
on my pillow
and your arms crush me to you
until the joy bubbling inside of me
is forced to find its outlet
in little, sparkling drops from my eyes.

And I know
that I will have to touch your face then,
relearn all of it's curves and planes,
it's textures, and heat,
with my fingertips,
just as I will have to relearn
those sensitive, demanding lips,
the feel of your skin
next to mine,
and the weight of your arms
holding me while I sleep.

It's a lesson I would willingly relearn forever.

But you have to get back first.

05/20/2004

Author's Note: Feedback welcome.

Posted on 05/21/2004
Copyright © 2025 Amanda J Cobb