Into The Abstract

Chance

Her lips were as soft as flower petals,

Her skin was like powdery sand,

Soft and easy to delve into,

I was losing myself in her again,

Every lasting touch,

Lingering look,

God I was reminded of all the poets before me,

How if they knew what I knew their words would melt,

Words that have stood for hundreds of years,

Would shatter in the pure experience of her presence,

I felt insignificant,

I felt seen,

I felt like I was everything and nothing,

All while under her gaze,

I was lost to her whims,

Witty comebacks and funny stories,

I was taken by her fancies of the week,

Whether it was cooking, baking, writing, or reading,

Or even to care for an injured bird out of pure generosity,

She was a delight,

Every story I was given the chance to laugh with her,

Every dance that I gave up,

My prance was no match,

And as my flame for her grew stronger,

It was in a box I made myself,

And all fire needs fuel and air,

And now all I have,

Is ash and burnt fingertips,

I blame my fickle mind,

For doubting everything that my heart claimed for me,

Oh how my chest aches with the thought of lost chances,

Lingering touches that are now barely a whisper to my skin,

All of the regrets held fast,

Leaving my advances to whither,

Oh how sorry of a sight my past self was,

To be another lost child in love with a wonder in her eyes,

I was blind to my heart's desire,

Choosing to let fires go out,

And fear the cold that came after,

I resign from this way of life,

And may I experience it once more,

May I have the mind to take that leap,

Letting doubt be hindsight,

And the chances be taken,

Even if those chances were the wrong ones.