You have not met me,
but you have rested
your head upon breasts,
kissed my fingertips,
the arch of my foot.
You have breathed naked
beside me,
as the candlelight
flung our dancing bodies
onto my bedroom wall

No, you have not met me,
but you have seen the sun
play games with my hair
in that long ago photo,
not knowing you would one day hold it
and call out my name.

You have not met me,
but your secrets live in my heart;
your stories take root in my soul.
We have shared tales of old lovers,
and demons who still rise to haunt us,
from our half-globe spin apart.

No, you have not met me;
we won't climb that peak,
but our shadows will continue dancing,
on dim candlelit nights

Copyright © 2002 Judith Rose. All Rights Reserved. May not be re-printed in any form without express written consent of the author. Do not copy or post.