I wish I could kiss the memory of you,
and travel back just once
to when I was naive enough
to hold you close
and feel my anxiety burn and frazzle out
in your arms;
when I was meek enough to nuzzle in
to your soft neck, your lying throat,
and whisper that I loved you
with warm breath I wasted
for two years,
or to finally remember
how unfit our bodies were
pressed together in the dark,
despite our cheery smiles
hidden in hot sheets,
because I want to kiss
something too good to be true
and pretend I don't know it.