Lips and Fingertips

I can't keep my lips off you, she says
And he lifts his hands to her face
Erasing the pain of her past
Bringing her into the present
With his fingertips.

Flying in Circles

The first few days he was gone, I felt like I was walking around with shoes that didn't quite fit. They were two big: they kept falling off, but I didn't have any way of fixing them. I was stuck with these shoes for a while and stuck with not having any clear path or direction. How is it that after living my own adult life for a decade, directing my life and making a billion daily choices, he is gone and I forget how it's all done?

After he flew off, back home, for a two week stay, I lay in a hot bath and tried to read a magazine to keep my mind off the gnawing emptiness creeping into my belly. I tried to relax enough to let the warm water soothe the ache that threatened to suck up any peace I had left within. Instead, I closed my eyes and visualized exactly how I felt. Somehow, putting it to words grounded me. One line came, and I sang it to the steamy tiled walls of my bathroom:

It feels like I'm flyin in circles
When you're gone I have only one wing
It feels like I'm flyin in circles
Still, I'll fly till I see you again.