Reconstruction

You’ve got me listening to Fables again,

no doubt Van Halen is on the top of

your playlists, my heart

in drum solos, you stroking

Eddie’s riffs into me

while I fall into Michael Stipe’s voice

and your arms and eyes.

I didn’t even hear the train

until the light was bearing down

on us, trestle shimmying with the rhythm of the wheels

on the tracks, the Savannah River

green and brown below. There was

no moon. The stars encouraged me

with winks

when you begged me to jump.

There’s no train now, no river

beneath us, but we’re still

dancing on the tracks,

suspended in midair,

still jumping

still falling

into each other.