Then & now

I had a lover once.
He was Latin – tall and dark.
An artist in the true sense of the word, suffering for his art.
His hands were large and strong from years of manual labor.
We talked of running away to France, touring the Continent by train.
Or maybe South America.
He wanted me for my body, not for my brain.
And I was the same.
We differed in our views of politics, art, life.
He never said “I love you.”
My heart had left long ago; I finally followed.

I have a lover now.
His hands are soft and gentle.
We don’t have a song, but we dance.
We drink wine and eat strawberries by the fire.
He cooks for me and cares for me, even if he is sick.
He makes me laugh when I am down.
I find love notes left around the house,
For no reason other than he truly loves me.
And I am the same.
Instead of imagining what will never be,
we plan for what will
We share our hearts and our home.
I found where my heart had gone,
And stays now – content and happy.