just

sitting there, the table with
tartare and kale, expectations
and meaning…all
moving
without moving
all aligned to the
moment, her
soft shoulder tucked
into my chest, my arm
hand fingers tracing a pattern
on skin on arm on neck
of want of need of
her…deep eyes, easy smile,
beautiful smile…
tracing
the past through to
the present, watching her
watching the
conversation arc swoop
dive and roll toward
and from her to me to
her to
me
I feel comfortable, unasked
unneeded I am just
just
and thinking about
not thinking and just
just
being with her, feeling
skin and tracing the past
through to
the present and not
not wondering, a future
left on its own, passive
possessed of
determination and
need…I feel
just.

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