If only
we could start off with
some horrific argument,
the emotion subsiding.
We would curse less and less.
Words would fall back into our mouths.
Nothing to be forgiven or
forgotten
because it never quite happen.
We would hold each other
comforting hurts that
would always undo themselves.
Each kiss would make us
a little more giddy and
every day
you really would look
a little more pretty.
The way we touch
would be a sort of
un-touching
that would redefine anticipation
Every ****** intensifying,
escalating into that first feel,
first taste,
first breath of breathing
and then
finally
we would
walk backwards,
away from us,
it would feel
like we were
approaching something though,
like we might
care for one another
one day.
We would go away dreaming
the parts
we hadn’t quite discovered
before losing sight of one another
without any of the hurt or
remorse.
We would still be perfect somehow.
Loving in reverse
instead of backwards.
Michael L Sutter