when i saw you today, i melted
as if you never left,
as if i hadn’t once believed
i would never touch your face again,
as if the years between us
only happened in my mind.
when we rode the ferris wheel,
and i pulled you on my lap,
wrapped my hands around your chest,
when I brushed your beard with mine,
you asked me:
what is going through your head?-
thank you for not asking twice
when i could not unwrap
the heavy tongue
that was tangled in my throat.
now when i smoke i still think of you,
knees drawn tight against your torso,
bees bumbling in the wood.
you offered to split your cigarette with me,
the filter soggy with your taste,
and i drew tightly, deeply,
inhaling every word
i wished to say.