I spoke; you laughed. I raised my voice. Foolish
to have thought you’d understand my viewpoint.
We were never meant to be; the disjoint
between us like venom. This poison dish,
my heart, meant for another. Oh, you wish
we’d never been; yet hope – dream – to anoint
a bond wholly true. You want to appoint
a time past, in which to repair. A kiss
for wounds of now; a hug, a hold, to grasp
in arms so strong a body firm, undone
by sudden display of spirit gentle.
A look, a brush of fingers; warm breath – I gasp.
This touch, this moment, I’ll cherish: mental
picture to smile at when left all alone.
[Image from incrediblesnaps.com]
[Copyright N R Nolan © 2015]