First Light

Until the dawn it brings,
Another day to sing
About the magic that was, you and me.

A thin layer of sand details every surface of my world. In between my bed sheets, settled into the spine of my journal, under my fingertips as I type. Thousands of tiny souvenirs from my most favourite night so far. And it is not lost on me that I keep reclaiming that title, while each new night deserves a significant share…

See I'm all about them words

Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words

Hundreds of pages, pages, pages for words

More words then I had ever heard
And I feel so alive.

I remember admitting how conscious and meticulous and precise I am about choosing the words that craft the sentences that detail the time that we share. How particular I am about every expression, how careful of each connotation. Because these are the utterings worthy of that closest examination, and they should be finely formulated accordingly. Yet now it seems impossible to dictate these most recent moments. And I am not typically at a loss for words…

‘Cause you and I both loved,
What you and I spoke of.
And others just read of,
Others only read of.

I remember our 3am wandering, so far out at low tide, picking our perfect little patch of earth, sitting seemingly in the center of the ocean as we let it rush in all around us. And the moment we gave up trying to avoid having vulnerable hearts and salty socks…

And with this silence brings a moral story

More importantly evolving is the glory of a boy.

I remember suddenly noticing first light, not as if it crept up on us gradually (the way you’d think it would), but as if I closed my eyes for one mere second, one soft, sandy, tender moment, and by the time we pulled back and opened our eyes again, a brand new day was upon us. Just like that...

And it's okay if you have to go away

Oh just remember the telephone works both ways

And if I never ever hear them ring

If nothing else I'll think the bells inside

Have finally found you someone else and that's okay

‘Cause I'll remember everything you sang.

I remember him telling me my hair always smelled nice, and he’d never met anyone like me before.

I remember believing him.