Sixes and Sevens

Light years of memories,

each distilled in a potion of its own:

one summer night, I tossed pairs,

trying to lose at strip poker

until I sat before you

in plaid boxer shorts

and a black lace bra.

We abandoned the game

and traveled halfway

to somewhere we’d never been,

trying to remember

something we didn’t used to be.

There were too many wild cards.