How uncomfortable,
this friendship we hold.
And when I’m back
in your strong dancer’s hold,
swaying to the same
music as before,
I feel you enter my heart again,
reminding me of our lost love.

Only in unison for those few minutes,
we leave the dance floor,
once again going our separate ways.
Later, I walk the stairs of my attic
approaching the box
sealed shut of or memories
together.
Carefully removing the tape,
(no one could know of my secret peeking)
I look at torn pictures,
folded love notes and
forgotten shirts that smelled of your skin.
Tears in my eyes—
Aches in my heart—
Butterflies in my stomach—
Memories flood in front of me:
pristine love.
Our love.