You said you didn’t want to risk it; you wanted to protect that life. I don’t know which hurts more: that you would never take the leap for me or that I am not part of what you desire to keep safe. Having loved you: oh, what of it, then.
To Be Elsewhere
We met in a coastal village
spent a lovely night without leaving an address
going separate ways. Three years later
we meet again by coincidence.
three years spun a novel
They fail to recognize themselves
as though meeting in another story
for an encounter.
One asks: Who are you, so cold and weary
The other says: I only know a thread is loose on my sweater
The more you pull it, the more it lengthens
until I completely vanish.