love songs

miles davis poured through the cracked door like the sweet wine we'd been drinking all afternoon
the melody of a love song drifted into our ears and stayed there, teasing us and flirting with our fluttering hearts
the sheets were cold because we like them cold
our bodies were warm because we were, at last, together
and i kissed you softly

miles davis reminded me of everything that i saw in love and everything i wanted to feel, touch, taste
the melody of our bodies moved slowly together in a rhythm that did not match the music, but instead matched something deeper--it was a cadence we created ourselves--we were improvising like the jazz but, as is true for all real jazz, we ignored the rules.
the sheets were no longer in the way
our bodies were no longer separate
and i kissed you softly

as miles played the most beautiful tune
i have ever heard.

454

she was thinking about me all week
i was thinking about her

she was thinking of all the stories she'd heard
everything that she grew up believing
all the people she knew and loved
and what they would think
if they knew what she was thinking

i was thinking about her

she was thinking about the distance
about exactly how long it takes to drive
454 miles north
about exactly how far 454 miles is from feeling safe
and she was thinking about what i might be thinking

i was thinking about her

she was alone and so was i. both of us played it like we were constantly surrounded and ok and not hurting and not scared and not 454 miles from sanity miles from safety miles from home miles from love miles from contentment miles from late night car rides and early morning kisses and afternoon surprises and evening dinners and not 454 miles from a tuxedo and a beautiful dress miles from dancing to terrible 80's punk rock while pretending to be salmonella miles from a bed with green sheets and a sky with ominous clouds and open windows and making the sound of the wind with our mouths and laughing for hours and miles from laughing and

i am thinking about you
always.