Back in the Day

In 1987 I met Kate, the woman of my dreams.
We fell into each other’s other,
we held each other up.

Together we discovered the depth of red wine and despair.
Together we quit bathing to detect which essential oil best masked
or better yet enhanced the pungence of sweat.
Together, we mocked women who over checked each nuance of make up
in the mirror at the Hauf.

Then, under a full moon in October
we danced in our Chuck Taylors.

Treading over graves,
billowing scarves framed our flesh
and swept against the stone woman.
She didn’t look up once.
She became us, and we became her.

We are that woman
holding our head in our hand,
sorrow dripping from our eyes.

We are that night
spent dancing in the dark
while flashes from a camera
illuminated our flesh against stone.

We are that full moon
hanging in the sky
reflecting shining jewels of wisdom.

The next day, I wrote the first poem
that I believed in
and my life as a writer began.