Echo of a Memory

Don’t you remember how we met,
the excitement of verses exchanged,
faceless and captivating.

Can you remember the intrigue,
anticipation of the next line,
word, note, call..

I hold your sweater in my hands,
feel rather than smell the scent of you,
as every part of who I am remembers.

Dancing at the top of the stairs,
so happy to see you coming home, 
the smile on your face, that kiss…

So many moments like this, 
overflowing in bliss, wrapped in
each other, how did it become just a memory?

SJW