---

I saw you again last night.

I’ll relate what I remember:

The wind was rough as we

Ascended a steep and winding street

Full of old houses with faces

Peering from two(-)story windows.

You were dressed in read and black

And at the top of the street

I could see by your silhouette you were cold.

You turned and put your head on my shoulder.

For the first time.

But I don’t remember where they went,

Those faces on the street,

As we slowly turned toward the undulating sea,

To our left and paused;

In the shelter of the moment

You were

Holding me.

For the last time.

Our bodies were pressed warmly together

When something caused me to whisper,

Loud enough for you to hear—

An unguarded moment.

For the first time

I was able to bring myself

To say what I’d felt for you, and

Although it was ill-advised,

Innocence, beauty, repression

Forced this confession.

“What did you say?” you sadly said, although you knew.

For the last time

I didn’t hesitate.

We were on the ground, you were in my arms

My face against your cheek, your hair deep within my lungs.

As I whispered it again.

And again.

Over…