I lie here in bed, my cheek against your shoulder,
remembering a night, long ago, on your boat.
I was afraid. I felt too much, too fast.
But you were tender, and love crept over us
like silver fog, silent on the lake.
We were never again the same.
We stepped like children through that door that led
to long passages unknown, holding hands, wide-eyed, but brave.
Here I am years later, listening to your soft breath
and feeling your warm smooth skin.
In the dark, now might as well be then.
From Now Might As Well Be Then (Finishing Line Press, 2009)