Do You Remember?

Do you remember how we returned each day,
Deflated, scattering our clothes about the room,
Anchoring
Our shoes by the bed?

Or how we
Lay breathless by the window
Open to the lake,
And how the wind would enter,
Tentatively, curious, its soft paws
Touching us.
Then
Quickly pull away?

And how we threw open the curtains
—The light spilling out from the room—
To sail the uncharted estuaries of the night?

Do you remember how we woke,
In the grey,
Embryonic light?
How we dressed, together
Hopeful,
For another day?

— June 2024 —