Ruth Behar

A few months ago I would have said goodbye.
I tell you, I was ready to shut the door and not look back. 
I tell you, I did not expect to touch you again. 
I tell you,I had forgotten how to kiss you.
That was in the winter, and winter drives me to desperation. 
Closed windows, locked doors, days like shadows. 
Forgive me, I lost a country, I cannot be trusted. 
Treat me as an offering, as Abraham did with Isaac.
Live me like incense.
Watch me go up in flames. 
Turned to ash.
   One day, when we are old and had forgotten how our 
bodies tasted in our youth, let us remember each other, years 
ago, in that room in Connecticut with the four walls and the 
three windows which I overlooked at traffic light.
   Let us remember the screech of brakes outside, the rush 
and shudder within.
   Let us remember how our palms touched, and then our
fingers, and then our shoulders, and then our lips, and then our 
   Let us remember how we were - two crocuses daring to 
show their faces before the end of winter.

These poems belong to the title Everything I Kept (Swan Isle Press, 2018)

©Literal Publishing

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