A Love Letter

And, as easily as I fell in love with you,
I crept back into his arms.
For who can resist the temptation of the familiar?
Yet, without an exciting new romance,
One fails to appreciate what feels like home.
Just as a man who knows only solitude,
cannot appreciate society
or the deaf who know not of noise
cannot also know peace.
Without your affairs,
I could not have ever known,
the comfort of love weathered by the ages.
Yet, you are not to be left without a fight,
without regrets.
Our romance remains pure & untouched-- remains romantic.
I must leave before we lose this and
excitement gives way to a new comfort.
A comfort yet to be tainted.
No, let me return to his arms,
where the future is already the past.

Storms

Storms make a skilled sailor, they say.
Wind blows. Our boat sways.
A slight turn and we're fine, we can bend.
Clouds gather. A storm brews. Our boat rocks. Tosses.
Another attempt to bend, to be flexible, feels more like breaking.
We brace ourselves- prepared for the end, yet not prepared at all.
Coming closer, we hold our breath, our arms intertwined.
Gradually encumbered by arms of sunlight, the storm is over.
Our boat remains in tact.
Storms make a skilled lover.