Before

Alone on this island
the days stretch as we do,
languid as seaweed on the shore.
We pick at glittering shells
and sort them carefully,
each an altar to the gods
of good weather, health, and silence.

The island is small, small enough for us.
So used to less, to boxed walls, mattresses
on the floor, to long shifts waiting
for a glimpse of the other before sleep.

Why stray from the fire?
Why look anywhere
but into each other’s eyes?
This is what we wanted, to be left alone.

For two weeks we only rest, wake, eat,
build a home. There is no hurry anymore.
We use our voices, talking endlessly,
one thought weaving into the words
of the next. I tell you that you’re all
I really need and I am honest.

I cannot live with myself, not like this;
stranded as we are, as we wanted.
I can’t sit alone in a room,
or even claim a bed with my own body.

You taught me patience and now
we have abandoned that careful skill
along with many others.
Without the greater world’s watchful eye,
I can cry unabashedly in front of you,
no fear of being overheard when I open myself,
undressing without care, no doors to close,
nobody to bother us
in solitude.

I want you
without distraction, without exhaustion,
I want you
with eyes wide and hands ready.

You find us fruit and we eat, greedy,
manners forgotten. You cook fish
over open flame and we pick at it
while we tell each other secrets.

I needed this, I tell you
and you nod in agreement,
chewing quietly. I sing you to sleep.
You are unafraid now, your dreaming
face at peace. I cry again
without you.

All this time and still
not enough.
An island alone, all of our hours
poured into each other;
I could spend my whole life like this
and at the end of it pray for more.

Time will betray us eventually
and the only question we cannot answer,
won’t consider except in private, in horror:
“What will I do when you are gone?
Please god, let me go first.”

The only burden left to suffer
is our humanity.
I don’t believe in an after without you
and do what I can to prevent it.
I find myself dancing in the rain,
paying tribute to our absent gods,
screaming up into the faceless blue
heaven begging for endlessness.

Love, our only enemy is time
and the only angel I must wrestle with
is death. Each night I lie awake
waiting for our only visitor.
Come dawn I draw another line,
another day of peace.
You carry me into the water. In fear,
in love, you tell me you need me too.

You, my home,
my heart, my hope.
Let us live another day, and another
after that.