I tremble awake,
sleep shaken from me all at once.
Darkness seeps past curtains,
pools upon the floor.
You pull me close until we are
two ill-fitting spoons,
until my quaking subsides.
Later I will rise from bed,
nerves tattered as a moth-eaten sheet.
It's your smile that coaxes me forth,
that keeps me on my feet.

***

From the mountainside,
I study distant ridges
hemming in a western county.
The sun's warmth is tempered by wind.
You take my hand and assure me:
"Still plenty of springtime left.
Mayapples haven't yet bloomed."
What you don't say:
If you want to return,
I'll come with you.

***

After the party, I'm weary
of small talk. On the drive home, 
you and I are steeped in silence.
A faint smile shapes your lips.
We idle at a red light 
long enough for me to say 
I love you.
This time, I mean it.

***

You nurse no grudge, harbor no anger. 
I'm the one awash in regret.
Is it pride that pins my arms at my sides
as you wish me well and walk away?
I swear this is best, letting you go.
My selfish whims will only erode
all the goodness left in you.
Yet your stride slows;
now, my final chance
to rush forward and say
Wait. Stay.
This time, I take it.