Outdoorsy

He said…

I play with words, true.

But this is not my faculty to

sway lexis, sentences, and paragraphs

to a melodic refrain;

When my words shudder to

The sound of your voice,

seeking out all the nuances to your tone,

The density of your inflections

In the attempt to

Fashion a worthy tribute.

In your presence, as your purrs

Turn to roars; the words play me.

I am older, true.

In have breathed in much more

molecules and sauntered on extra paces

to close the gap to my mortality.

The rising of eyebrows in reply

To an unwelcome remark would send

Off a warning, not threatening, but

Rather evoking a hidden smile,

Like a private joke shared among friends.

With your naiveté, my defenses weaken.

With your complexity, my age condenses.

My memories drift, true.

But I remember fully your eyes

when we first met.

Shifting quickly between faces,

I could almost see your mind

Racing to lay the people behind the names

deciding who to welcome or discard.

I remember fully your birthday,

when you tucked an unruly hair from

behind your ear as you gazed down, smiling.

The golden light from the café bathed

your dusky skin into an almost bronzed tint.

I nursed my coffee for what seemed

An eternity but I knew it was just a flash.

My memories may drift,

But I take that moment with me to the grave.

You’ve grown, true.
No longer that wide-eyed girl who followed

Her daddy’s every move.

You braved bullets for an ideology,

Loved, scorned, and dared to love again.

Your smiles now hint at a secret.

A mystery that men seek to unravel.

I committed to memory your body’s every

curve, nook, recesses, and

each velvety corner.

More than any man, I know

What fills you; by the way you arched your back

in pleasure. Yet, I, too, am privy to that secret –

the mystery that you hint.

You’re a woman now,

And yet you’re still a girl, still

Looking to follow her daddy’s every move.

You’ve grown; and yet

Stayed similar.

Three years hence,

You’re no longer the same, as I.

This is not a love poem.

This is a tribute,

To the strong woman metamorphosed

From a timid and insecure child.

This is a work of gratitude

For the man that I’ve become –

Because of you.

This is not a love poem.

But your smell suddenly waft

Through the air just now, ever so subtly.

Don’t ask me how.

I’m drunk with your smell, even

If it’s just from my memory.