Image by Anja from Pixabay

Time travelers

We met, finally, in our forties

slightly frayed,

with Complications

so knotted we weren’t looking for Love

not that kind anyway

just some fucking to forget

that we wanted everything, everything in a partner

and weren’t going to find it.

One night in the kitchen, hand up my dress, you said,

“I feel like we’re both fifteen”,

and it was true

two teenagers laughing like crazy between the kisses

dodging sprinklers

and talking, talking, talking till dawn.

It’s never been like this before

I mean

I want

every

day

of my life with you

and not just our future

I want to be together every day of our pasts

My soul stretching out in your sunbeam.

Green praying mantis on the wall

and we’re five years old,

holding out a hand for it to climb,

breathless with the beauty of its motion

and also wondering if it will pinch.

Fixing the bunk bed

and we’re thirty-four,

romantic walks to the hardware store for a screw,

laughter when we finish with the same thought.

Your scent beside me in the bay window

as we talk about cities we’ve loved,

hands stroking skin,

bodies arching under the streetlight.

We’re twenty-two,

never tasted defeat,

full of plans and ideas and love.

Living forward and backward at once

each new day unwrapped together

a new surprise.

Fingertips to fingertips,

age eight,

twenty-seven,

and now thirty-four again,

amorous but so tired you fall asleep,

fingers in my cunt.

Now in our forties we’ve tasted defeat

known despair and loneliness and regret and loss

cradling every younger age safe through that dark tunnel

and now

now that we’re through

we let them loose

to roughhouse

and caress

and dream,

playing infinite games.

And at every age the stars.

© Copyright 2020 Autumn Looijen

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