Simple (Gracia, 1983)

1983 was
a simpler time,
and our love
was simple.


There were
no needless
complications.

No sex
(we were both
too scared),
we knew
we couldn’t
handle that.

Sitting with her
in the shade
at Hillcrest Park
on that May afternoon
was enough,
leaning on each other,
gazing at
an ever-receding
horizon.

Her laughter,
her chestnut brown hair
in the breeze,
her full, deep gaze
were all I needed.

It went by
so quickly.

Just as leaves
don’t fight
to stay
on their branches,
we didn’t fight
our inevitable
parting.

I think about her
every Spring,
thankful
that even our goodbye
was simple.

I’m sure
she wouldn’t
recognize me
today.

She knew me
before all the drama,
all the unnecessary
damage,
before all the
complications.

She loved me
when my heart was
simple.