history begins now

we talk about suffering,

as if suffering was all there was.

we go late into night,
sharing our stories

under the haze of moon,
vague stars,

the blur of wine and too
much food.

each takes a turn at it.
the mystery of it all.

childhood
then school.

parents. friends and lovers.

my turn, then hers. we get to
know one another
as strangers

try to do.

her in one chair,
me across the candle lit room.

will we make love,
that's another matter altogether.

but we begin to realize
that the past
is just that.

the past.

and history begins now.