My Santiago

A husband - to - be, A wedding, Then marriage in waiting back at home, In her state, Across the gulf from me. Curiously, I didn’t think this unusual, Just accepted the way things were, the way they had to be.

But hope springs...

The night stretched into early morning, To the ranges above the city, The place where lovers go to escape, And from there we saw the city sleep then wake to life, Whilst we were never more awake.

But unspoken was the knowledge, That this had to end, Soon.

Names were exchanged, But no more.

No family, No commitments, No work or future plans. Just the here and now, What we had - in the moment - Nothing to look forward to, Except this serendipity, This memory. And it is ended, At that train station, Very early on the Sunday, After the Saturday.

A hug, A holding close, A slow drawn out kiss,