You walked through the door
and I was taken back in time.

I saw empty vodka bottles lined up
on the windowsill like forgotten soldiers,
retired veterans replaced with young troops.
Sticky-glass rings on a coffee-table
grey with age and dust and cigarette ash.

I remembered furious fucking under the
influence, under the harsh kitchen lights;
a sweating arm flung out in ecstacy,
a wine glass falling and the fragments
framing us in glittering confetti.

I saw bright lights, heard music
so loud I couldn't hear myself think
even if I had wanted to listen, music
which vibrated under my ever-moving feet
and set my heartbeat with its rhythm.

I remembered non-stop movement -
a chaotic whirlwind of dance and sex and games,
we played with hearts and minds like soulless toys.
Like children we thought only of ourselves
and ran through life footloose, carefree.

You walked through the door
and I looked into your eyes.

I saw my own regret reflected in you,
as we remembered without words, as we
wished upon wish for forgiveness for our sins.
I saw my own lessons learned in you
and knew that you had learned the same.

I remembered the years since those days;
meeting myself for the first time, learning
to dance to my own music, finding love
outside of a bottle, and I smiled at you.
Silently we buried those manic times.

I thanked you without words, we pressed against
each other for the briefest of moments.
We have grown; grown up, grown wiser, grown apart.
With each new memory which surfaces
I am more thankful for who I have become.

You walked out of the door
and I finally felt at peace.