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29 March 2012

the wonder of green

I loved you before

my snow-scraped boots nestled
against kilimanjaro's curved back and
before
my lips began to taste
of something other than self,
of those ones I dipped into searching for your
apple-scented taste,
green and delightful.

I loved you before
my breasts ripened and
my hips widened with their expectation of
the bountiful life
that I hoped contained you,
even still.

I loved you before
-I know this -
because of how we danced our
characters together along
the seam of the aged dorm couch,
wisened by cheap beer and unrequited
everythings.

I loved you before
my knees learned yoga and
before
I uncovered my uncanny touch that
still calls men's names from england,
mexico, honduras.

I loved you before
this weekend
when I taught you
this touch
once again and
I loved you even after
we delicately lay in your parents' bed
covered in the wonder of green
ripeness,
allowing the gravity to tiptoe
our fingers closer.
I will slide along
the creases of these wrinkled sheets,
ever decreasing our distance,
never again to reach
such great proportions.