I stayed with you that summer,
loving you from the far end of your couch
cup of tea in my palms
and a welcoming smile on my lips
that I hoped could cross the gulf between us.
Later we imploded,
but in my heart I still carry
the softness of that early morning light
and your shirt even softer on my cheek.
The steam from that mug warms me still.
–Charla M. DelaCuadra