After A Very Long Engagement

For R.

You are an albatross, riding on the strong current of my wind.

I tell you: I have no home. I cannot remember the last time I slept. I have always been moving. I've ravaged cities, pulled down bridges, set adrift too many ships. I keep pushing out against the edges of the universe, swirling, seething, afraid of letting you land, lest you leave or stagger or fall.

You are new to my world, and I am grateful for your company. Do you know where you are flying to? Is it in the same direction that I am blowing? You seem to take to me rather easily, unlike the others, because you tell me you knew me as a child: you cooled my cheek every morning. I felt you wrap your arms around me every time it rained.