February 16, 2016

The Morning After. {Poem}




You and I,

drawn together again

as no amount of silence

can quiet the allure

of your soul to mine.

No amount of distance

can lessen

the magnetic adhesion

that leaves us a tangled mess

of familiar grips.

Our bodies entwined,

legs and arms, each finger–

anything to hold me closer–

and thoughts stumbling,

knotting themselves with feelings

so that both are left strangled–helpless.

No words, no logic

stand a chance

in what our bodies seem all the wise to–

and our hearts?

They sigh in sweet relief that

there is another to hold them.

Yet they are gripped too,

for every time you are in my

bed brings with it all the times before.

This is not some one night stand

but a collection of collisions.

Our story into the immediacy

of this intoxicating moment:

no room for what is next.

I know your scent,

your kiss, what makes you ache

just as intimately

as I knew that I would find myself

lost in them again tonight.

I knew you would be here,

willed it really,

because as clear as I can be on us,

there is no place I would rather get lost in

than the workings of your soul.

There is no body I would rather

wake up next to

and wonder if every truth

clouded by sensation under the moon

would be clear in the morning light.

There is no one I would rather make coffee for,

drinking over distracted conversation,

recreating the distance, convincing ourselves

that maybe we are not ever meant to know

or make rules about love.

But at least we loved

as if in the grace of the morning light

we could lose each other–

and find that we didn’t.


Author: Tiffany Anderson

Editor: Erin Lawson.

Images:  Flickr/Scott Thompson

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Tiffany Anderson