My Red


She often asks when I first knew I loved her.

I smile, because I know how she likes
to turn back to a memory of our love
from either just yesterday
or the very first day.

I tell her a different answer in a different way every time
for I find I discover myself and us in the asking.

There were a myriad of moments where
I fell in love (and still do) with her
and they always feel like the first time.

Kissing her passionately in a strong embrace.
Feeling the rhythm of her body as we dance
across the floor.
All her sweet affections for me in
caring about my well being.

Holding her tight why she cried in my arms
and then watching her sleep peacefully in them.

Delving the myriad of wonderful funny avenues her
mind takes in conversations over dinner.

Feeling special like no one else could when
she looks at me drinking me in, not wanting to
forget that scene of our lives and her filing it away
for future reflection.

It’s taking her to bed, and her trust me in the
taking of her, and sharing of all those intimate
precious secrets between just the two of us.

I knew I loved I her when she told me to just let
go and fall into what I was feeling and I didn’t
realize until that very moment I was allowed that
in my head and wanted it so badly to feel it
with her.

The moment when every minute, and hour and week
was filled with her in my head, and I didn’t want
to lose that feeling…it was everything.

My Red, I loved you from the start
whether I knew it or not.
I did.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

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