I Know It’s Not A Poem, But…

Please, Would You Come Stay

I miss every part of you
but especially the way you
gently bite my lower lip
while we we’re kissing

and it’s not re-living that I’m after,
so much as
a long series of swollen moments
to spend with you

the kind where
coming and going are forgotten
and only the taste
of the present moment
stays on your lips.

Marvin Bell fathoms losing his wife
and confesses
“the quiet wouldn’t be yours”
and I think you might be teaching me
a little about what he means.

I can’t get the wind to
stop bearing down on me
in the Real World
which of course means
the fastest way to mix things up
is to turn the other way

and when I do
you’ve been waiting all along
in Chapter 9 of Plato’s Republic
where to miss someone is a
fleeting falsity
thin as the pages we publish
yet in the moment
so utterly convincing
we can almost taste it.

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