The Perfect Evening With An Imperfect Man
some nights are magic. some nights
all the planets align and the moon
hits the earth where i live in the
perfect way and the universe
whispers songs i learned as an
infant and then forgot as i grew
older. i hear the whispers and
i hum the tune and i dance that
dance i have only done while
in the womb, and touch, for
a moment, heaven once more.
but the sighs and the sweetness
only last until i close my eyes, for
when i open them again, daylight
melts the magic and then it's just
he and i again. two people growing
old, gray hair and laugh lines around
our eyes, imperfections glaring in the
too-bright light of morning.
but that night, that night will live
forever and i will be an old, old
woman someday rocking on a
porch with my eyes closed, dreaming
of that perfect night and remembering
the secrets we shared, the joy of two
hearts beating for a few hours in time
with the universe.
and i will sigh with pleasure at the recall
of the imperfect morning when i realized
that it was the flawed man beside
me that made the perfect night possible.
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