Amore Ultima

Photo by Chevanon Photography on Pexels.com

1998. The Palisades Center, outside the Lowes Theater. You arrive with our mutual friend Laura. The world blurs, and only you fall into focus. The conversation of Chris and my other friends becomes background muzak to our conversation.

We all walk toward a coffee kiosk, where I wanted to buy you a cup, but didn’t. We continue our conversation, which I never want to end. But Laura needs to leave before the movie (that you both came to see) even begins. I watch you walk away, then try to ignore the emptiness that arises after.

A week or so later. You come with Laura again, this time to our bi-monthly Catholic Young Adult Group. You introduce yourself as something of a “rebel catholic.”

“Boy, are you in the right place,” I answer.

The miniature golf outing some weeks (months?) later. I make sure I join your team. How I want to stand beside you, behind you, near you. And yet how quiet I am when you sit in my passanger seat on the way to the course, and to the El Dorado Diner after.

How much time passes before the piano crashes on my head, and I finally call you?

falling in love

the taste of your lips


even after ninteen years

the fresh bloom of red roses

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