Trail of Words

The trail of the words he spoke that night have led me here, to follow my own uncommunicated thoughts, unexplored ambitions, unforgivable decisions. They are. But I followed the trail of his words through the night, past the filters of rationality, across the continent. Here. I followed the trail of his words to my future, my own trail of words, and now I search for one glimpse of his trail. I wish he would follow his own trail of words and find himself here. And find me, lost in my trail of words.

Eight Years

After eight years of absence I breathe beside him again and we sit staring out at the open sky beyond this cliff. We need not speak, we need not touch. I know the way his lips will purse, will part, and his mouth will exhale the sound of patience. He will wait eight more years. And another eight after that. And another eight after that. As long as I promise to come back, he will wait.