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You Are

I've been told Utabe a writer is to be alone, r
drifting

but I wrote
this for you without even knowing_
this and every other outpouring
marked less by citations, valid arguments
or carefully placed similes, and more
by the stories of our lives
swirling through my thoughts
like gypsy costumes-every scribbled word entwined
with wild rose tendril memories
of us-our tears, salty and cleansing, mingling
with running ink in my mind, our whispers,
conversations sometimes unspoken,
like rivers of sunshine across my body-
moonlight made memorable
because it reflected across your
face-the image traced invisibly in the margins
of my manuscript-you are

these words

-Chava Roth

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