I replayed your words,
a favorite message,
though I’ve memorized
the way it was delivered.
You did not seed it in me,
but something deep inside,
in a place never reached,
heard it and recognized
the voice, ancient souls
reunited, a stirring,
an awakening, a rising.
Something must’ve happened, though,
in the transfer.
You must’ve given too much of yourself
to my ever-after.
Our once-upon-a-time now birthed,
I give back to you in equal measure.
Restored.
But now we each
have more.
Come, darling, take my hand.
Write with me. Let’s never end
this love story.
Together.
Our effervescence
need not be
evanescent.
We can live
forever
as long as
we have tongues
to dip and plunge
into the well,
we’ll leave our ink
upon the world.
And when our bodies
become one
with the earth,
we’ll find each other
as light
and rebirthe
again.
As one.
Beyond the Tuscan sun.
Laura Denise 