Something melted in me, too
after that final Southern snow.
So long had I clenched limbs to torso
that I forgot I was more than chest or groin.
On that ancient river bank,
I began to flow again.
I dared to stare at you looking inward, eyes closed.
In the timeless wind I remembered desire.
When the possibility of a future
is so defined by the past,
path dependence becomes codependence
becomes destiny.
It didn’t feel like fate, though,
forcing myself to commit the present to memory
just to have something to hold
on the slow walk home.
So as we followed the trail back through the woods,
I chose to lay each feeling to rest
on the soft-needled bed of that forest floor.

– march 2020