You always said the right thing
At the right moment
And you could be incredibly funny
Your laughter like sleigh bells bouncing on silk.
Being there, beside you, was to be safe
in a world where I had always felt unwelcome.
Because you loved everyone and everything
But you gave your heart to me.
When we walked in the woods of winter
And an avalanche of snow fell from the limbs
And buried us below . . . .
We clawed our way upward and laughed at the sky
“That is not gravity,” you gasped. “There is no gravity.
It’s just that the earth sucks.”
When I first said, “I love you,” your eyes widened
And your smile was wide and captivating.
“Of course you love me,” you answered
“Don’t you think I can feel it?”
And there were always so many things
that never needed to be said.
“The greatest compliment you ever gave me,”
you once said, “was saying my name in your sleep.”
I probably still do . . . .
Because your name echoes in the emptiness of me
And so few things happen without reminding me of you.
In those days when it was just the three of us
Learning to live in love and love living
Me, and love, and you.