poetry

I Felt You the Moment I Arrived. {poetry}

 

I knew it.

 

I felt you the moment I arrived.

The sky shifted two degrees as I stepped through those heavy doors.

And the air, it was too thick.

My breath could not reach the depth of my lungs,

And my heart pushed out of my chest.

 

See, the thing is, I have always known you, you have always been this whisper laid across my eyes.

So I thought for certain that I would recognize you across the room,

I thought that your soul would shine through, or that the light would savor your face alone.

But I searched and I couldn’t see you.

 

I stood there, in the middle of the Golden Era.

The room bubbling with expectation,

streamers hung from the ceiling, grazing the floor,

the air shimmering like a lonely summer road.

It was New Year’s eve and everyone around me

was hopeful.

I began to doubt my body, but still I closed my eyes and waited for you.

And it could have been hours or only moments that I stood

rooted in my own hope.

Waiting. Feeling you so close that my skin ached.

I have never been more sure of anything in my life, yet that urge to run, to deny my knowing heart, pounded in my head. And in those flashes of quick goodbyes and retreat,

you turned around and stunned me.

There you were.

 

I wonder if this is how it has always been.

You finding me.

 

It was then that I felt the flood.

Warm rush pushing me out of the door and down the street,

my hand cupped gently in yours.

Your warrior soul, stretching out your wings to cover me in my smallest moment.

 

I know the circle of your arms,

your weight is unmistakable.

I know the scent of your words and

the taste of our history is always on your mouth.

So, when you kissed me,

we fell together as we always have and found ourselves in this familiar rhythm.

Impractical. Impossible. Immovable.

 

I am at the end of my Summer and you are full in your Spring,

but when you move in me, we are ageless,

twin flames whose light burns brighter joined.

 

Distant memories lay on the floor all around us, photos with worn, ragged edges.

I have known you at every age, and we have lived in the warmth of true love.

Your hands remember, even as you sleep, how you have touched me.

And when you draw your fingertips down my back and settle your hand heavy on my hip, I can finally melt into sleep,

Though there is this sense of greed that wakes me as the sun rises.

 

From the comfort of your bed, I watch the light creep up the branches just outside the window and filter into your room.

My eyes never get their fill of your sleeping face or of your powerful body at rest.

But the fabric of space and time folds upon itself

unbearably precise.

So the joy of finally finding you is threaded with the bitter memory that

you always leave.

And it is worth it,

the loss could never overcome the joy.

But this time,

I will not clutch so that my fingers dig in and scar your heart,

no, this time

I will lay open my hands

and unfurl my white flag of surrender.

***

MichelleMarguliesMichelle Margulies is first and always the proud mother of two incredible men. She owns a small bookkeeping practice, and balances the demands of work and family with writing and observing the amazing humans all around her. Always a dreamer, a lover of words, a champion for the underdog, and a civic participant, she lives her life from her heart.

***

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