Saudade Stories

You wore the moonlight like a secret,a closely guarded confession to bloom against your skin. I was too afraid to touch then,already not knowing how to let gobefore this dangerous rubicon of contact where our hands meet. Even then, I was alreadyclinging too jealously. But you were interested in little thingsthat I have trouble rememberingthat would in time become everything. I should remember the way you traced and kissed...

You touch me and it's like a memorythat I have yet to make,a nostalgia I should not yet know.There was a word for this,something that encapsulated an entire history that may beimpossible to write about.I can feel it before your hand withdraws,the stone that my heart will become,the ache to be enveloped in your heatif only for another moment,even if we both know that's not enough.I can hold on to the few days that you were...