BODY TALK

Just the two of us,

and a soft, sanctifying evening

after another day of sprinting.

Sitting still for the first time since breakfast,

we enjoy a simple quiet dinner here at home.

A playlist of old favorites

croons softly in the background.

We toast. We taste. We talk.

Two lovers who haven’t lost it.

I reach my hand across the table.

Her soft musical fingers sense my invitation

and sashay over to mine.

They meet somewhere in the middle,

between the condiments and the candles.

Then. There. I feel it. Two squeezes.

Soft yet strong. Subtle yet sensual.

Unexpected and unmistakably wonderful.

Still the thrill.

We’d agreed so many years ago,

so many squeezes ago:

Two in rapid succession

always means the same thing: “I love you.”

For some reason they feel so good tonight,

especially coming as a mini-surprise like this.

To her beat, I send two back. . . .“I love you, too.”

Sometimes they have an added meaning

like. . . . ”I’m sorry,” or “I forgive you,”

like “This is so much fun!” or “We’ll get through this,”

or like tonight, just. . . . “Life’s been good with you.”

Sometimes it seems as if our bodies

understand each other even when our minds don’t.

Sometimes they want to be together

even when our minds are miles apart.

Sometimes, I think,

because our minds are miles apart.

Their timing is flawless and impeccable,

knowing just when and where and how to touch.

They neither seek nor wait for permission,

just speaking sweet nothings to each other

whenever they feel like it.

One day, a day that will surely come,

there will be a last time, a last two squeezes.

One of us will send them to the other.

But they won’t come back.

We’ll send them again. And again. And again.

That one of us will cry out,

“No! This can’t be happening! Not yet!”

But nothing. Nothing will come back.

In that moment, then, the squeezes sent

will be a final bittersweet “Farewell for now.”

A sacred, if silent, body-to-body benediction.

A blessing of all things physical between us.

One last “Thank you,” for all the joy

our bodies have brought to each other.

But not tonight.

Tonight we’ll toast, taste, talk...and touch.

Then we’ll clean up the kitchen together

just like a thousand and one other nights.

Later, we'll crawl into bed,

and melt into each other's tired but trustworthy mold.

Two lovers who haven’t lost it.

So thankful. Oh, so thankful.

for so many years,

So many squeezes.

So many “I love you’s.”