I could have kissed you
under cherry blossoms,
pale petals drifting down
like the trees wanted to pretend
they could be snowclouds.
I could have kissed you
in the rain, drenched to our bones
and not even caring
that the skies opened up above us
and tried to wash us out.
I could have kissed you
in a clearing in the most secluded woods,
with just the sound of wind
rustling through the leaves
and a few voyeuristic finches
peeping at us.
Instead, I kissed you
in the parking lot of a Waffle House,
just shy of 2 a.m.
in the middle of a hectic week,
with our waitress grinning at us
from the other side of the window,
because, honestly, how could I not?
This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
