So close I could not look down with any hope of spying toes,
Better to keep eyes fixed across your shoulder, searching for heaven,
Moving in synch to Latin rhythms, secure in your arms,
Holding me like a fitted garment, tucked in all the right places!
Folded into crook of arm, I heard your heart.
Snuggled as you whispered tall tales of imaginitis.
Tender sharing, quiet bliss, a comfy squeeze, a gentle kiss.
Dawning coffee, shared in bed.
Discovery of world through dodgy internet.
Prayers for those we loved or never met.
Sitting close beside: at movies, church, in cars...
Long aeroplane pilgrimages to distant destinations,
Always within reach of a brush of hand or nudge,
Close enough for a peck or flutterby kiss,
A waft of your sandlewood soap, earthing us.
Closeness at distance, by phone or image,
We journeyed over countless airwaves.
Advice, comfort, giggles, exasperated tears...
devices witness contemporary marriage,
households always on the move.
“You should be able to read my mind”
Your regular decree - as if I lived in the gaps
where tumors had been removed.
You inhabited my thinking and my doing.
You still do.
(C) 2019, A.Koh-Butler
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