They loved each other when everything was soft,
gifts opened in the mix of eyes and limbs,
their wet kisses fresh as a new build.
They built with the blocks of each other’s desire,
ground down the sharp edges of misunderstanding,
plastered smooth unseen cracks of self-doubt.
When love solidified they aged in its greying,
impulses tarmacadamed into routine maintenance.
She constructed a boundary wall to protect,
he occupied the shed of love’s workshop
until their lives hardened like course concrete
and their hearts weathered and dried to the core.
Both wanted first claim to the earth,
neither wished to remain derelict.