Rainy Memory

Keep me in mind

with more grasp

than your mnemonics

hold me in those sweet corners

of memory

learn me

with the same strength as rhyme

know me by rote

on instinct

by heart

Now...

In the weak flaps of a wounded umbrella, in the chuckle of rubber boots over concrete, in the sandy, carbon, water scent of the wet city... I take a moment apart. Calm and still on the bus shelter bench.

With my eyes closed I paint the washed-out hues of a similar time. The colours bleed along the edges, I see a watery face I long to touch. There is a sensation that my mind's eye fails to portray but like dewdrops left over from frost, I keep the

remaining trace.

Then...

Barely daring to draw breath when we met on that day. The fear of dispelling a fragile dream lingered in your brow and behind my smile. We suspended a secret between our gazes. Truths too rough to utter were exhaled in the chilly wind.

A swirl of time beneath chortling clouds. Your hand in the small of my back, as you pulled me into an alcove. There was the slip of sweet tongues together. Irresistible lips moved in a pace matching my own. Impish grins and strides along silt and gritty street corners.

Quiet in the grumble of machinery as we rose to the seventh floor. A clack and heavy click of the bolt back in its place. The slurp and slap of wet clothes against the tile. Gripping, grasping hands on your skin. Shivers shifted on the surface while a warmth bloomed inside me.

You whispered a thought against my forehead. And the word escapes me.

We were clumsy in our needs but our interwoven minds carried precise intent. I pushed your shoulders as you pulled at my hips. We dropped into the private world of an unmade bed. Giddy breaths and finger mischief as we fed on our rising desire. An energy that had coiled in me before, that had wrinkled these very sheets. I gave it to you, to the heat bottled from your own private nights.

I spoke in wordless need and you answered in consuming kisses. Nips, licks and suction in tender places. Sweet touches at my neck, teasing at my breasts and between my legs. You were a current surrounding me, rapids of passion that gave me no grip. All I could do was merge with the rhythm. I trembled from my shoulders and writhed from my hips. Heat flushed my face and within my core. Slickness in my most private place, brushed gently by your fingers.

You wound a teasing path of touches down my body, your mouth finding my sex. Deep sighs and ragged gasps as your tongue lapped and swirled. My will was dissolved to the moment. I wanted it dissolved, I wanted to have only your madness and mine. You paused to watch my face and smiled.

With your breath on my rosy flesh, you murmured to me. And the word escapes me.

We played with our wants and danced with our wills. With a kiss at my jaw, you teased yourself at my entrance. My hips obeyed only instinct, spreading wide as you pressed yourself between them. Sweet flushes of feeling and emotion. I surrendered and conquered in a dizzy blend as we chased our ecstasy together.

The intimate heat shook along my nerves as you drove your passions home. My fingers slid over your sweat as your breath steamed on my neck. You pushed me to the height of my lust and I dragged you down into the free-fall. Pure to the last drop of need, you arched away and I watched the balm of joy spread over you.

We had left behind our shields and our masks. Wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's dreams. A thousand threads from the paths we had chosen woven into that time. Huddled close in the aftermath of our frenzy, we let the world spin on from afar.

At the peak of your rapture and in the valley of your content, you said the same thing. And the word escapes me.

Now...

Here is where it frays again. Here in your absence, the colours have bled down and away. Where was the glove from my pocket? I remember thunder but not the coat you wore.

Doubts pooling in the cracks and dents of the moment.

How can I give you what you will never take, never ask for and (I fear) never need? What will I have left to trade? How can I make up for everything I've taken? How can I exchange for everything I want?

These thoughts remain untethered to their answers.

I tap rubber beats on the gritty, soaked cement. A bluster of friction announces another pair of boots. My sight pans up a navy blue windbreaker. You are soaked, too stubborn for an umbrella.

Cool wet contact as you caress my cheek. Tilting my head with a gentle urging. I rise and meld into the circle of your arms. In the storm of my fears you say one thing:

"I love you."

And my words escape me.