Chance Meeting

By Kelly Grace Thomas

 

 

The poetry of beautiful coincidence,

a mosaicked moment of the meeting of lips.

Ignited with the inspiration of watercolor whispers,

wishes where we dream in your pastel pallet.

to slow dance in your accent,

To taste the honey that drips from your intention.

Rocked to sleep in your gentle eyes.

With the best view in Venice,

my periscope has shifted.

I am starting to feel safer in this hall of mirrors.

I am starting to peek outside without the mask.

The wind of your flight path might bring you back,

where definitions will be more pronounced and

there will no longer be these only ifs and never was.

 

The night will spilt us

in half,

to see which side of the coast sinks in.

As we write the geography of want.

I will greet every piece of me you have kissed,

hold hands with the memory,

in the window reflection

where Christmas lights twinkle in August.

Swimming in the sea of your sweet breath welcome,

I can see the shore.