Love
assemble a lifetime with these ingredients. Simmer for twenty years.
That first night: the laughter, the music, the love
The first date: the music, the poetry, the moon
The road trip through a hurricane, my yoga pants ruined by rain, the Violent Femmes, and that morning at the Hirshorn, the Rodin
The first Thanksgiving in the snow, before Chicago and all of the ugliness that still can’t steal our laughter
The first year, the barbecue shacks and swimming holes, that glorious roadside stand surrounded by zinnias with homemade fresh strawberry soft serve, a heaven I didn’t know existed.
Baltimore
The Bed and Breakfast Inns, especially the Conception Room in Plains, Georgia
Velvet Revolver at Bayfest, Scott Weiland dangling from the scaffolding with a microphone
The fight on the beach in Destin
The centerpiece I sent to Thanksgiving when we were asked not to attend. I sat in the middle of the table.
The bluegrass festivals, the camping trips, the biker funeral procession down 17 in Charleston
Bob Dylan
Long, slow, smoldering looks that melt the marrow of my memory
The seizure when I had to sprint across the bed to tackle you away from the picture window, the forever until the ambulance arrived, you unconscious and me on the phone with your brother. Thinking I might lose you, the long night in the ER and the spinal tap, the stiff conversation with your sister the next day when I wouldn’t disturb your rest. By law, my sister.
The ice storm that brought down the Eisenhower Pine, the National and our neighborhood sounding like a war zone, the oak uprooted in Kelly’s parents’ yard, taller than the house, and the earthquake days later, when we were at Courtney’s, with power.
All of the time on blankets by rivers, tending fires at home, driving up mountains
The drive to Tennessee.
Haunted hotels, sacred woods and a basilica, Christmastown and Belmont, Spencer Mountain
a river of our own, The Cure and The Vindys, and that weekend in Boone
My meander down memory lane, you steady on the paved road beside me
The freedom I’ve found in your love
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction might have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
MA English literature, College of Charleston
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Comments (5)
That moment where you describe sprinting across the bed during the seizure and thinking you might lose him completely shifted the tone for me — it stopped being nostalgia and turned into something raw and real. All the music and road trips and strawberry soft serve were beautiful, but that ER night felt like the heartbeat underneath all of it. And the line “By law, my sister” carries so much weight in just three words. It made me think about how love quietly builds its own family over time, sometimes in ways that are complicated or hard-won. When you look back on all of this — the hurricanes, the fights, the hospitals — do you feel like the scary moments strengthened the love more than the easy ones did?
This is so beautifully vivid, all those little moments woven together into something that feels real and lasting. You can feel the love in every line. 💛
Damn. Dena got emotional without cheesy rhymes or irony. Love this a lot. All the little details. The Cure, Dylan, the Femmes all there too. Really exceptional work, lass.
Lovely words from this fun journey
This sounds Ice true love. Grab it keep it 🌺🌺🌺🌺