I only need a moment—
a moment to come into my own,
a moment
to free myself from this lonely space
that lives between the sunken shadows
and laughing lights.

I only need a moment—
a moment to detangle myself
from the sweet smelling
cherry blossoms
of childhood—
in order to become the woman
who stands before you now
with white plums
in her wrinkled hands,
asking again for forgiveness. 

I only need a moment—
a moment to rediscover
the paintings of my heart,
the dragonflies and butterflies
on ruffled ties—
just a moment longer
to recognize… memorize…
the beauty in your deep brown eyes
when it’s reflecting mine. 

I only need a moment—
one simple moment,
to recall
just exactly why,
and exactly how it has become
that I am the woman you’ve sworn to love.

by: Samantha Lê

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First published in My Solitude, Chusma House Publications 2003.

© Samantha Lê. All rights reserved.