Decades ago,
it’s been decades now,
you and I shared space
in the same place
at the same time
and the fact that
was even possible
feels like magic. 

Now all I have are
memories and imaginations,
like the lump of my belly
growing with our baby
and the house we
would have bought together,
the home we would
have made forever. 

Remember marching
up the sand dunes to see
the most beautiful sunset
of our entire lives?

Do you remember dancing
at Limelight, utterly high with the
flashing lights and pulsing music,
our sweaty bodies sliding
against each other as we
stomped and swirled around?

And do you remember that
one long walk back, lost
at 4am when the city was
just waking up, opening its eyes,
and we were the only ones alive?

We sang as we wandered, 
hands locked and eyes forward:
I try to say goodbye but I choke
try to walk away but I stumble,
though I try to hide it, it’s clear
my world crumbles when you are not near.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: at the same time, lump, and sand dunes.

_{Photo by Clay LeConey on Unsplash & song lyrics by Macy Gray}