You try to touch

but it’s never enough.

Love wants

on your hot breath

the icy chill of truth hanging in the air.

Friction of skin on skin

Hope unravels

between fingers made raw.

Should     should

maybe

what if

You pull the reigns

as struggle sinks you

deeper into the comfort

of your own darkness.

You’ve been here before.

I’ve been here before.

My heart cracks

in the shape of this well-worn path

above a cavern of cool air

that knows all too well

The oldest love story of all time.

You are not my mistletoe

dangling in mid air

singing sweet songs

maybe

what if

(should should)

I release you

to your tarnished mirror

while I wait

in the certainty of myself.