Let Go

It will be hard to let go of your smile.

It will be hard to let go of the first time I saw your smile,

saw it fully. 

It was

about halfway through our first date, 

we decided,

(without saying anything to each other --

it will be hard to let go of how wonderful that felt)

we somehow mutually decided 

that we felt safe enough

to sit across from each other at an outdoor café,

to unmask – like the bandits we were,

or were not,

unmask completely.

I saw your smile for the first time that day.

I saw it for the first time in my life, for the first time ever,

for the first time, you showed your smile to me -- 

and it felt so huge, so precious! because

it was the first time we ever spent together.

Your smile changed your face.

I saw your laugh and I heard it.

It will be hard to let go of that moment.

 

It will be hard.

It is hard

that after our fourth date

you forced me to let go of you.

 

I had to let go of your laugh, 

your long, curved nose, 

your dense brown hair which – this surprised me -- 

was paired with a white beard, 

to let go of the way your hair felt

tangled up in my fingers,

to let go of

your inexplicable, completely authentic

dyed-in the-wool New York accent – 

which made no sense to me after I found out that

as a kid growing up, you lived in New York for only one year -- 

then moved on.

You had me fooled.

 

Hard to let go of the sound of your voice, slightly nasal,

you spoke slowly

punctuated by smiles.

Hard to let go of the way you made me laugh.

It will be hard to let go of how your chest looked

the first time I saw it bare,

of how much you loved having me run my fingers slowly

but purposefully up and down the length of you.

 

It is so hard to let go of

your six guitars decorating 

the walls and corners of your tiny living room,

of how they were crammed into 

every available empty space

of your apartment.

It is hard to let go of that day

(which was only the third time we ever spent together)

that day, which was after

a day, and our first night, and then another day together,

so hard to let go of the time on that day -- 

when I finally was able to tear myself away

from you,

that time on that day, when I was finally able to gather up my things

to leave.

It is hard to let go of how you said

No – 

no, not before I play for you.

 

I don’t want to let go of the moment

you picked up your blue guitar,

sighed,

looked at me.

I will never forget how you looked at me

warmly, 

gently,

patiently,

lovingly.

 

I don’t want to forget

how I felt in that split second of time

when you looked at me,

how your eyes lingered,

I don’t want to forget your smile

as you laughed, 

and began to play for me.