I counter
Thoughts of being without
You
Thoughts of walking
Running, tiptoeing
Away from you
With considerations of
Alternate possibilities
I think often:
But what if this meant something different
This word… this conversation
That look… that lack
This sharing of self
What if this is something different
Something I’ve never encountered
But only dreamed of
What if this is a sharing
A stepping deeper
Or is it a warning?
A making of space between us?
What if this is a tentative
Holding out of trust
An opening of heart
Or is it only you
Showing me intimate parts of you
So that I know what I
Do not have
So that I can see what we are not
What if the things he does not do
The things he does not say
The things he does
Are the very different thing
I have always been looking for
What if I interpret him
In the ways I’ve always wanted to live
And think
And love
Instead of the ways the world has taught me
I must
And yet
Fear whispers insidious
That you are
Another one
Only one of Them
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, \ Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit \ Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, \ Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. ~~71, Rubainat of Omar Khannam
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