It was the motorcycle that did it...
ok let's be honest,
it was the way you carried your self
shoulders hunched forward
like "you've been there before"
strength in the legs
like a cyclist or a runner
your birth giving thighs
speaking with your hands,
you had the right verbal dance
with figurative flirts finding their way
through smoke saturated bars
and half empty beers trying to lull
you blue eyed devil
I remember the alcohol we drank as
we played with learning tools for children
how you were so excited about the science
like the spring of youth suddenly found you.
And the pillow fight in the grass with the vegetarian anarchist,
sexy pirate and the thirsty youth of the new times
it was savage and fun, battle cries, war paint, sweet brutality
with soft cushioned intention,
ending with feathered snow and kisses in june
we had sword fights with plastic swords
and drunken cheers
I remember the strip club and the gothic beauty
with the leggings.
The burritoes and the booze, pouring rain and
the adventure of cab rides home
at four in the morning melting into and around
I remember the porch and the einstein tree,
the lazy nights smoking grass out side
and making love with the force of gods through our body.
being so fully connected and intertwined
I remember being happy.