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May 2021 · 70
what if
reb May 2021
what if we kissed,
right here, right now?

under the pale, white,
fluorescent light
that burns brighter than sun.

in the brick-laden hallway
lined with red steel and
adolescent desperation.

what would you do?
would it be a surprise?
surely one as keenly clever as yourself
could see the words written across my mouth,
like a sultry red lipstick
lined on the lips of love.

it would be like the first flake of snow,
descending, dancing,
gently anxious to meet the earth
and melt away into nothing.

it would be like the smell of the sea,
a calling card,
at once striking and distracting,
with only a hint of salt.

most of all it would be fitting,
for a pair as wrong for each other as you and i
could never hope for more
than a moment shared in a corner,
hidden from the eyes of the world.

i'm not friends with that girl named Spontaneity.
her childishness and unpredictability
set me ill at ease.
And yet neither am i well acquainted with her cousin, Patience,
for her willingness to allow life to pass her by as she waits
strikes me as the greatest tragedy.
Carpe Diem, as they say.

these two girls, hand in hand,
keep me from that road less traveled.
Spontaneity whispers to me too often,
telling me what i should do in muted, excited tones.
Patience doesn't whisper enough,
making me discontented and churlish.
together, they create Delusion,
an ugly dog that barks and growls
and tries to corral me into a corner,
like a ewe into a pen.

i know it is Delusion that howls,
that scares me and snarls at me,
daring me to try to tame it and declare myself its master.
and it is Delusion that will eventually lead me into that silent spot
where cement meets brick
and hope meets reconciliation.

so, what if?
what's so wrong with creating
a little summer in a place where
so little light shines, and so little warmth exists?

tucked away in that corner,
like the striking and fizzling of a single match,
you and i can burn
and sear into memory what never has been.
written May 2019.

— The End —