i was a girl, and he was a boy, and we both lived in small towns in new hampshire, and in a way, in worlds as different as it gets. and we grew up, paths crossing more than once, it turned out later. we needed each other, we had things to teach and learn, but we didn’t know it yet. and then came a cold, rainy night, and a front porch in portland, oregon. there it was: an immediate recognition of the other, of the self, of something old and true and necessary. earth and air and fire and water. we knew it was a big love, bigger than our hearts had found. we took it, and we gave. and then we gave some more. we gave it a good, long run. we did. we gave it all we could.
this letting go is the right thing, friends. even when the love’s still here, the cracking shell. but goddamn, it aches, this rip of untangling. the work ahead, the echoes in this house. everything mixed up together… the things, the hearts, our animal family, our stories, ourselves.
Sonnet No. 6: Dearest,
I never knew such loving
Dearest, I never knew such loving. There
in that glass tower in the alien city, alone,
we found what somewhere I had always known
exists and must exist, this fervent care,
this lust of tenderness. Two were aware
how in hot seizure, bone pressed to bone
and liquid flesh to flesh, each separate moan
was pleasure, yes, but most in each other’s share.
Companions and discoverers, equal and free,
so deep in love we adventured and so far
that we became perhaps more than we are,
and now being home is hardship. Therefore are we
diminished? No. We are of the world again
but still augmented, more than we’ve ever been.
there’s tending and mending to be done. a whole lot of it. i thought i’d let you know.