Old Love
On the days that my mind fades and my smile weakens
And patience is a virtue that we have forgotten to keep warm,
I make my way into the corners of my heart,
Wandering through dusty chambers and unswept veins
To find the deepest and darkest crevice in which to rest;
It is here that I sit and unfold our memories.
I brush off any harsh words that have clung to my coat
And wrap myself in our first encounter,
The beginnings of love.
I take out the soft words one by one and watch the curve of your words tremble
As I hold them up to the light.
I flick through the album of favourite moments,
Recall our matching smiles and conjoined hands.
I pick out secret glances and kissed noses from the jumble of affection,
Try them on as if they were flannel pajamas and fur winter coats.
I cradle the glow of shining eyes and flushed cheeks in my hands;
Their warmth creeping into dimples and freckles that have not been embraced or grazed upon in a while.
I hold our love close as I remember, not regret.
Every morning I make my way into the corners of my heart,
And every morning you make your way into its centre,
And every morning I wake up and find that I love you more than I did last night.


