I was alive before I met you.
The sun rose every day,
Bringing light under crevices, chasing
Shadows into corners;
The wind pulled my hair like
A teasing child, and
The moon sang her orange solo,
Awaiting the sound of the wolf’s.
I wrote sometimes, cooked a bit
And smuggled sleep out of my pillow
On the best of nights.
I was alive.

And then I met you.

And since meeting you, I’ve
Explored days without the warmth

Of any sun. Heard Echoes eering,
New sounds on the wind’s chimes;

And watched as the moon shrouded
In shadow on a cloudless night.

I met you and I joined the living.

Found warmth in the understanding
Of Love, such that sunless days chill me none;

Recognized the harmonies of earth’s song,
Your lightly rasping Southeast timbre conducting;

And I closed my eyes to be swallowed
Into the dark, romantic hymn of the
Wolf overtaking the moon’s round figure
As he met her in duet for her lonely, loving tune.

My tongue works on words yet uttered,
blood type a through z, positive and negative;
Having learned the beauty in touching
Yin and yang, the balance of black and white,
I make art at every touch,
And the best nights are those with fervent hearts and stilled souls
Collecting the pieces of one another
In contented sleep
As we move through dimensions.

I was alive before I met you.
At last, I li[o]ve.