The Birth of Our Love

I smile at the birth of our love.
Because my lips remember innocence,
And how hope shined.
Poems, park benches, a picnic basket,
And an ocean view.
These were our deliberation.
And then the fleeting touch,
The hand,
And our first kiss.
That was when your lips met me,
And after,
Remembered me for a time.
But now they do not speak,
They do not speak, they do not speak
My name.
But I remember.
You wore suede boots.
There were clouds in the sky,
Sunshine in our bellies,
And boats with sails upon the water.
We blushed, we laughed,
We talked and dreamed,
Walking on that pier.
Come near, come near,
To me once again,
And let your lips remember.