I often catch myself drifting away, rivered by the pursuit of you.
If you would be the first proper hand hold; if the skin I love would be weathered, if it would be clammy, if it would be confident.
If the lips I eventually touch would meet mine washed in the ghost palette of traffic lights, if it would be in the dark, if it would be a full stop or an invitation to continue on your journey of heated incubation within my body.
If you would be my first and my last, if you would want me because I made you laugh, if you would remember me by the sound of my footsteps, if you would decide that we could build a future knowing I still have nightmares about the past.
I love you, but I don’t know where you are or when you might arrive.
But I do know that no matter the consequence, no matter the dreaming, I will wander along my own tangent. And if you finally decide that you need me, that is where you will find me.
