My plane landed after the sun
Traffic tangled like cotton wool
Three messages—not one from her
At home the trees are empty
So is the house
The lights all off &
On the table a beet salad with a bowl of sliced fruit
I am alone in the dark
Coat on
Luggage at my feet like a pair of dogs
I eat then dial
I leave no message
Where are we going
What are we going to do
No answers but a tiny voice from across the room
I turn & see
Your mother in nightgown in shadow
The light of the streetlamp echoed in the tear balancing
On the lip of her eye like an acrobat on a tightrope
She whispers my name
Again
Without moving
The tear falls when she whispers
I want to make love
Without moving I stand
Without moving we meet halfway
Without moving I take her face in my hands
The eyes are hers—The skin is hers
The way she takes me
In her arms without moving
The smell is hers
We kiss like the first time
No words no silence just the relief of pain gone
My skin praying the same appeal over and over again
As we make love
Marry me
She smiles without moving
I see the night ripple
She answers without moving