Our Yokohama Walks

I begin at the end
Because it’s the last thing I remember,
And I think about it
As I walk home–alone, not lonely.
It’s you and it’s me,
Standing close in the subway station,
Lightly clasping hands
With smiles that never leave our lips.

Not long enough ago,
We two had looked at our watch faces–
Which was a mistake–
And forced ourselves to admit the time.
So we walked together
Arm in arm, me warming your hands,
Toward the train
Which would take you away from me.

We walked slowly
Along the waterfront through the park,
Through city streets
Lit up and beginning to look like Christmas.
We traded stories
Of embarrassment found in folly and youth,
And of loves lost
For the better–for the wrongs they gave us.

At times we walked
In perfect silence, taking in the city lights
And bustling passers-by
Rushing off to whither-they-will around us.
But we two alone
Had purpose and meaning in our world
Of thought and feeling–
Of beating hearts and taciturn glances.

When I first saw you
Tonight, I felt as I do every night we meet:
My pulse quickened
And my mind emptied itself of all but you.
You walked serenely
Toward me, and I forced myself to not run,
Telling myself that
I’d survive those last seconds without you.

I’ll end at the beginning
So it can be the last thought on my mind;
Tonight when I dream,
I’ll remember the time I first saw you:
The girl across the table
Who said barely a word to me all night,
But from whom
I could not tear away my eyes or my heart.

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