A Decade

It took a week for her wound to heal.
Centrally located, shy and stinging,
it reminded her of the trial and error,
of the passion, and of gravity’s force.

It took three days for him to remember.
The efforts of the past crept up, sweetly
on them both, and suddenly time well-spent
was in front of him again, speaking.

It took them a decade to understand.
Their bodies were living off of scraps
of each other’s love, crumbs around their mouths,
sticky fingers running through each other’s hair.

It took one moment for each to know.
Their wounds and crumbs and efforts
had been saved secretly inside conjoined memory,
leaving the future clean and uncluttered.