stranger unbound

a raw, smoky crystal unearthed by your rough hands with a flourish and a proud smile, now rests on my desk

i look at it every day and i smile to myself, remembering a warm yet confusing time when all we knew how to do right was make love–deep, hard, hoping

a picture of a sunset and two pairs of skinny summer legs now rests atop my bookshelf

you placed it there when i couldn’t find a way to hang it on rented plaster walls without cringing as it unceremoniously clamored to the floor

you sleep in my bed as i write now, beautiful and rumbling with vitality even in stillness

you ask me to slow down, to get some sleep, to allow the to wind to carry me 

and that’s all 

that’s all you ever ask of me

here i thought that togetherness was bondage

but i’ve never known this kind of freedom