ENTRES NOUS

I am tempted to say that i’ve forgotten you, but that would be dishonest. In bits and pieces, the memories of you, of us, return to me. The night of red balloons, we walked the pavements along my favorite restuarant, unsure of what was, but we walked anyway with our ice cream cups. Your white truck heavier than the weight of words I buried. I remember your hunger and the growling of your belly. You said it was for food, but I think it was partly for me, or so i’d like to think. The dogs we met on our path and how I petted them fascinated you despite the physical aversion they bring you.The entree of octopus was good, but entres nous, I enjoyed the waiting more. Do you remember how we anticipated our turn in the moments our strides synced, and lips created sounds to enjoy the reaping of our presence? Oh and the wine. Yes! The wine I wouldn’t stop talking about. Shrike may have been its name, but excuse my memory. We waited then, we wait now. So I find myself wondering if your hands still fit in mine. If our lips will meet again with the taste of smoke you enjoyed and firery passion that imitated the burning bush. I want you. Like root to soil, I crave you. I am unable to lie to myself anymore. Unable to sit on the moving hands of the clock. There is now readiness to remove the mask that has been imposed on me, so I can taste your lips as I inhale your breath simultaneously. You have the softest eyes, have I ever mentioned? Mine pierces the veil of your soul, exposing your depths, but yours, my darling, does something else. It is the ocean that protects my Atlantis, my hidden world. The waters that quench thirst, and baby, I am so thirsty…

— Tolú