Friday Poem

Making Love After Long Absence

In a room perched on top of stairs 
so narrow my shoulders could not 
pass through two abreast, we found 
ourselves together again. I had
forgotten how light the body is. 
How it surrounds us like a cloud 
in which the self can drift at its ease. 
Far, far away were my diaphanous
feet and half as far my hands, 
and just where I ended you began, 
a thousand miles off yet close as breath 
the moment lungs finish their brief
rest and begin to grow again. Augustine 
says body is the world’s messenger to soul, 
and soul gives shape again to what 
she hears in her own kingdom.
So now, at the end of a day I’ve been 
all talk, turning inward at last, I can 
see you there your breasts swaying
in a grey blue lingering northern light.

by Nils Peterson