reverie

your kiss is more than

I dreamed and

I wonder if, in retrospect,

revising the script for time consideration

makes any sense at all.

Can I convey

in my limited vocabulary

how the kiss itself

wasn’t the magic

but the sparks flew from the space

between you and I

as you, leaning into me,

looking at this mess

of carbon and atoms and flesh and bone,

longing for the moment to last,

maybe not forever,

but longer than we had,

as silence settled

like a hundred years all around us,

and I pondered

if this is too futile

to waste any dreams on…

knowing full well,

that futility is almost always

the stuff that dreams are made of.