With thanks to Sharon Olds.
We simply can’t describe what it is we expose,
in this moment of driving aimlessly together
through an evening of twilight, in my fast car
with the sun roof welcoming the moon, in our summer skin,
my neck strung with mutely glowing pearls
pulsing in the dusky shadow. We whisper about our dreams
igniting stars, we can’t decide what was airplane or
solar flare and what was combined dream. The road
is freeing, each turn reveals
in this moment its illustrious never-endingness.
I think of the tears I shed in your absence,
my loneliness distorting memory. We murmur about
forgiveness – when I abandoned expectation, and saw you as you are.
You are tucked into my passenger seat, your eyes
an enigmatic green, your wrist bending
compressed, along the subtle curve of your rib,
we talk about the future,
your hopes igniting dreams of my own.
Even if we could, we would not analyze it,
the turn onto another forested road when I reverently
turn the music low and you start to dream against the glass – I love
to drive and dream with you, only to dream
my dreams to a drowsing boy/man, your
limitless silhouette overflowing the chair and
languidly spilling into my space, the
unrestrained soft curl of your hair, it cannot be taken away.
It is the shadowy twilight, we travel surrounded by it.
“This Moment” first appeared in the Aquinas College student publication, The Sampler.