STORIES

We swap stories about the lint
that filled the vacuum cleaner
and made it whirr rather than grind
and we smile at the small detail
of this story, of the hands we miss
strong, firm and soft hands
that cupped our faces... we both
have these stories about
letting go of the best of us
the best people who loved
us, we swap them like kids on
playgrounds swap lunches
or secrets too hot to hold...

We miss lovers in the same way
I know because we both grab
our stomach, our head
lean back and memories
are just above the tongue
telling another summer's tale
of how you sat on a brown couch
and counted your lover's fingers,
me of how my lover and I
pressed our knees against
each other, wrapped our legs
sitting on a bed, the only
way we made love that day
You and I know the power
of these stories we loose
in the atmosphere around us
they remake us with each
telling and I find I am
hungry for your telling
so that I'll know these
stories are not some
fantasy in my head--
they really happened
and every time I tell them again
they happen once more.

© Valerie Bridgeman
July 7, 2013