Crimson

It was just another cold, crisp September day, if I remember right.
They all seemed to blur together whenever we hung out,
as if Time itself struggled to make sense of us.
We watched TV, an episode of one of your favorite shows.
I always loved watching you watch your shows,
the way you cuddled closer and rested your head upon my chest,
as if the beat of my heart was enough to make you feel safe.
You mentioned a prom that you went to years ago,
in between commercials,
and spoke of your red dress.
I knew that I was not leaving until I saw you in it.
After building your courage, you disappeared into your room, asking me not to peek.
Could you tell how much I wanted to see it?
You came out shyly into the hallway, and told me to turn around.
I turned, and every breath that I will ever take froze in time.
Never in my life have I been as speechless as I was in that moment.
All I could do was stand there, in awe of you.
The way your hair, like deep whiskey, pirouetted above your lovely collarbone,
your wonderful smile, outmatched only by the glimmer in those deep, brown eyes.
My senses were not enough to take in what was standing before me.
You walked in close to me and hugged me so that I couldn’t see you.
I felt Time stand still as your embrace tightened,
the smell of your hair, home, drifting into my lungs,
and the faint pulse of your heart beating against my own.
I asked for your hand
and we rocked back and forth
in the sweet silence of your apartment.
The way your arms fit around me
just effortlessly
and mine, around your waist,
I knew, in that moment, that everything I thought I knew about you was wrong.
In front of me stood the most beautiful woman I have ever known,
Not just in body and mind but in spirit.
Among countless trials and pains you stood strong,
shedding tears that no woman should ever have to shed.
Everything that happened in your life,
good and bad,
led you to this embrace,
to this moment in Time.
What did I do to deserve this precious moment?
I felt so humble to be in your presence.
Could you feel that?
You pulled away, and we looked at the shoes you wore that night,
but I wasn’t looking at your shoes.
I was looking at you.
As if the diamond studded heels
could ever hope to contend
with the glow radiating from you.
When I got home that night, I could barely sleep.
I didn’t want to forget anything about that moment.
I still think of you in that red dress.
Maybe, one day, I can be lucky enough to see it again.
Maybe.

~LT

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