I know that age matters not
right now, but then it did.
It mattered when we raced against
the wind. I was just a babe in your arms.
You were a man even as a teenager.
You had this way of bringing me love
on a tray, and spoiling me until
I was full on your love. I had it
all, for a brief time. I showed you
my cuts and bruises
and you kissed them. Your lips
on my shoulders within seconds.
My hands unbuckling your belt
in such a frantic youthful way
in an ageless time
between this world and the next.
Let’s remember where we were
and lament the age of us.
It matters that you see past
the girl. We felt invincible
and will never know that freedom
again, that youthful love we held
onto so naurally.