I hope it's different when you kiss her.
Kiss her all you want -- you are a free man,
but I hope you notice the spark missing.
I hope your heart keeps beating at the same pace,
not excited by her mind or the way she speaks.
I hope that there is a different kind of yearning --
I dare not hope for nostalgia,
but perhaps an emptier kind of desire.
I know that you will love again
but I hope that you do not confuse
this momentary physical love
with the kind we once (hopefully) shared
(Do you think about her late at night?).
I know that your lips do not love me
and your hands do not love me
and your mind has forgotten how to love me,
but I hope that your heart still bears
smudges of me when you kiss her.
I almost hope that for a split second you forget
that her name is not mine.
Maybe these hopes are delusional --
maybe a kiss is just a kiss
to a boy like you, who stops loving with the seasons.
But I cannot bear the thought of
her face replacing mine.
And so for sanity's sake,
I hope it's different when you kiss her.
Please let it be different when you kiss her.