0.6
March 23, 2016

You Still Spin Me. {Poem}

woman alone ocean beach

I imagine we would have danced.

You would have taken me by the hand
and spun me,
once,
slowly,
so you could watch me me move
before pulling me into you.

Told me all you needed to say
with the smile of your eyes
and kissed me,
hard,
when the sheer love offered
back through mine
took hold of your heart.

Spin.
Hold.
Your hands on my hips,
they land there
the same as mine know to kind your neck,
my fingers can dance on their own in your hair.
Shoeless.
Careless.
In awe.

I am in awe of how real
that dream feels.
Of how my imagination
can make an already gorgeous moment
that much more potent with
a simple vision of you.

This way you touch everything
I touch and see all
that I see.
I can collect our words—
repeat them,
create them.
I can still feel your fingers and
smile to mimic
what I remember in your eyes.

Memories of you spin me now,
so sensational I risk
the distortion of my reality,
might miss the beauty of my aloneness.
And yours?

Do I linger in your thoughts.
Do you look out at the sea
and long to wonder out loud to me?
Wish to catch my hand and
run at the waves,
collide with the salt
as we did with each other
once,
spin
in the water
find your wet hands at my waist
and mine, their, where they’ve always
been, at the subtle scoop of your neck.

Do you scoop me up in your dreams,
in the moments of your day
when you have too much time to
think,
when there is space for your
heart and head to converse
and the love we shared
makes your eyes smile again?

Or am I truly alone in knowing
that you cannot ever unlove
one whom your soul has danced itself
into,
lost in a sea of memories,
and dreams, that still,
with hope,
could be?

~

Author: Tiffany Anderson

Editor: Katarina Tavčar

Photo: Yaoqui Lai/Unsplash

Leave a Thoughtful Comment
X

Read 0 comments and reply

Top Contributors Latest

Tiffany Anderson