These are not the only poems our love inspired. But they are the first and the last, which seems fitting, now that you’ve died.

Beginnings
I try to hide it
but my heart flutters like a bird
at the sight of your hand
with its gentle masculinity

And the blue of your eyes
the first time you stood at my door
and looked into me
is etched into my soul

He wants me to be with him
He wants me to be with him
again. I know he does.
I thought about it. It was
after we ate soup together
at my round white kitchen table
and he spoke of horses, animals
that I love, in such an endearing way. And suddenly
I couldn’t look him in the face for
fear my feelings would show, for
fear I loved him again and we
would share my bed as passionately
as before. I thought abut this incessantly in
the days that followed. Of rising in the morning to see
his lovely dark-haired head on the pillow
next to mine, and the face
that kisses my face before
I leave the room. But…

The first poem was written on July 3, 2012. The last one on December 14, 2024. The photo was taken August 23, 2020.

Good bye, my love.